Suddenly old but feeling perfect, my wet underwear is on the the floor. It's gathered round my ankle. Myko laughs, just as wet and full of piss herself. Already, the violence of our togethering feels like more than something. I reach out and take the back of her neck with my hand. She steps in as I lean over the counter and write;
Dear, Temperance, October, and Brine,
You are more than a place to me. More than walls and simple chimes, but I'll write to you anyway. This you'll know as you read my words. From here beside the lark's buttered breast, from under the heavy lids and the bright side kettle where we'll hum. We'll hum together, Bunny. Dickens be damned, we're now brightly doomed. Soon enough we'll see, the forest within the trees.
To you,
Tigre
PS.
are more or only this bed, maybe the floor too.
We spend the day in, ordering takeout and hiding under our sheets. I get up and pee while Katt talks about Milton. Her mouth's open and it's as round as a donut. Moving around in our own loops, I'm making the coffee drink while she's talking about shirts, and that damn cat.
She talks about the buckets of paint he keeps under his bed. Because Milton is a prepper; he wants to paint murals after this shits done. Once the calendar finally breaks, once... Everything is practice, practice, practice with him. But he's always broke. He can't even afford to hide behind his neighbors house. So, he'll also order take out and talk about painting some drizzled relief on someone else's smaller door.
"When everything's done, we go back outside. Milton sits in the grass and smokes and I read out loud. I like reading Jung, he relaxes me. If I'm really loud, he can even wear me out a little."
"Jung, that stuff's so April to me. Anyway, Milton's an ass. You could loose him in the couch and I'd never miss him."
The kids ring our bell, leaving sacks of sushi and warm pop outside the door. We've come to be married, she's laughing then gently farts. I sit down and sing with her before we eat. When we eat, we cry a little until our plates are clean.
"After that, I think a bath is due! Oh, the boats we'll talk about. All of the boats and the tugs and the pigeons that dance like livestock. I can show you my back again," Myko adds suggestively. But I've already slipped away. Naked to my ankles and breathing like I've run a race.
"The waters all gone, we have to get more."
"To Canada, Sir."
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