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An unknown sun

I want to stray

far away towards

an unknown sun

I will find a lover;

A lover with the eyes

of a broken statue trapped

in the vines of the past

I will hold him

by the hand and

we will leave

behind what

old lives we

crafted out

of matchsticks

and soapboxes

We won't speak

until the next town over

where we'll watch the

neon lights flicker,

fading before the

garish plight of

ageless whores

and desperate drunks

We will watch

the fights and

the vomit on the

sidewalk rot in

the glow of dawn;

The mornings will

decide where we will

go or if we will stay

The mornings will come;

I will kiss you on the lips.

We will stare at the holes

in the wall while we breathe

in the dust of lechery.


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'Hope, you don't have to use it on your wedding night.'

She handed the pistol to Hope, right after the vows, right before the reception.

'I'm just kidding, darling. Don't worry. He's a good man. You did well sweetheart. He's a good man. You'll be fine.'

Hope's paper-thin smile tried to grow as she stared at her grandmother's reflection in the mirror. The mother-of-pearl grip sparkled in her grandmother's hand, bathed by the Chapel's cheap buzzing lights.

'There's a bullet for you, just in case.'

Hope had left the gun on the table.

A week earlier, drunk off self-pity, she had taken it out of its case and walked to the kitchen, where she stuck the barrel in her mouth and proceeded to take pictures of herself to send to Ray.

In a rare instance of good fortune, her phone ran out of battery before she could indulge her sense of pithy revenge. She woke up and pried open her tear-salted eyelashes then made sure to delete an…