A Chapter by Hailey Juliet

. . .

. . .

something like that time
you took me up to that lookout
over the indian reserve,
how original, i thought,
like the first time

you said something along
the lines of, i love
you, in your broken english
not foreign, but stuttering 
like the first time

you may or may not have
tripped over your own 
feet, falling headfirst
across me, half-freezing
atop those somewhere between

scarlett and crimson sheets:
and stayed there, not like i
cared or noticed anything
but that crazy, sheepish,
grin.  something like a lamb

as you reached under me
with your left hand
scooping or something
struggling to get a grip
on what it all means

i really couldn't say
as i was too wrapped up
in your wild hair and those 
sheets beneath us to make 
tails of tails, or something

. . .

© 2018 Hailey Juliet

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Added on February 9, 2018
Last Updated on February 9, 2018


Hailey Juliet
Hailey Juliet


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