Dystopian Junk Mail

He Sits  In A Downtown Cafe

hesitscafe

The evening found you in calico and rust. A silent man for the fading sunlight shadow drainage. You mix the blood of wood in your coffee, and bring it to your lips like a sacred chalice. You recall her who was rattled by rat feet in the walls, and so many letters from afar. Now you are locked in this unreal city of lakes and fires that haze the sky autumn orange and winter gray. Throbbing taxis that pick up strange women, dressed all in black secrets, and pull away far into the evening. Hum low for me in your language, the song of her once more. The one about how she evaporated out of sight, and now falls as rain.

#freewriting