Rachel

Barefoot, warm pavement of the Cottonport road
beneath our soles at night
Voices, bouncing across the water as we remember
what town we're in
Heartbeats, not showing but feeling of excitement and
fear of being brought back to the real world,
where the dog tied to the watching oak was placed purposefully
to harm
Where the boys you kissed tasted of alcohol and apathy
Where back home there is nothing of this sort

Heavy coats, summer's one, so is fall
Air, biting, tasting of frost and teenage boys
of Talen, of your infatuation
of skateboards on gravel
of knowing this is not my place,
not where I belong,
but living in this surreality all the same.