2.) An uncommon currency among criminals and captured men. The worth of the fossil is determined by the warmth and pulse it has preserved. Those without decay are said to reveal an escape from certain fate. Their value is incalculable, held like a lifespan packed into a prisoner's hands.
Jillison, I thought there would be more to say. My eyes were top heavy, traveling in reverse, they kept teaching you how to disappear from me.
There was no sound left. My storm tent was soaking wet. Even the birds were secret and barely cut through the sky to speak. Did I need a working knife? A cloth to cover the organs I couldn't keep?
Walk right over it, that's what they said. The sky was too short sighted to tell.
I told you to drop it. It didn't concern you or me. I should've known by then. You yelled through your first mouth and then a fire door.
It was another reconstruction site I couldn't hear this time. There was a sinkful of broken glass and cans and I wouldn't listen to it again. My ears were wrecked close and then I couldn't see where you went.
You always left like that, bricks up to your neck and bones broke out of the rest. When you were gone, the blankness went with you. Two years, one day I was in an identical place.
Did you ever wonder what I did? Pinned rain, red air, it was all pretend. Wishful thinking. We were going backwards Jillison, I couldn't believe you bled the echoes out of me again. You should've seen me. I told them you'd be home by the scaffolding hours. I didn't see it coming. I said I'd keep the storm tent open for you.
All the unbelievers, the ones that built the birdless sky. They'd been right about you all along.
I went over it and over. I knew you would've said my organs were opening on their weaker side, but that was wrong.
I wasn't petrified or unprepared. I wasn't petrified or unprepared.
I'd unwalled enough and saw the same lesson leaving naked each time. If it was all I had left, I would learn to dress it as a deafness, my wearable absence and defense.
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