commemoration

one of those moments

frozen in time

when the players don’t know

recognize

the significance

of what is going on around them…

it seemed like just conversation

words

special only in that

she shared it with him.

Before they knew it

one year down

and scratching scalps

they wonder

how did we get here from there…

 

words are concrete

no…

strike that.

sheetrock, at best

building something up

tangible

building something up

around them

while they walk in place for months on end

staring down the barrel

contemplating

if they pull the trigger

is it all shot to pieces…

 

fools rush in

she tells him,

time and again,

sounding more like a cynic than

the wise man

ignoring that passion

etched on her heart

she has clung to through

copious amounts of, well…

shit.

So time…

played by months

weeks, days

hours, minutes

and introducing: seconds

speeds by and

deposits them here

pretty much where they first began.

is hurt worth risk?

is hurt worth chance?

is hurt worth her time?

she’s not saying…

not moving

not flinching…

she just won’t budge

His Hope staring down Her Doubts

in this gun fight where

shadows are growing longer

with every minute ticked past noon.

he’s

Winning!

because trigger happy beats

trigger shy

every.time.

in gun fights

and love.