if dark..

I am made of shell, you know, black shell skin and silver-pearl under my eyelids, silver-pearl inside my mouth, silver-pearl fingernails. Last night, we walked very far under a sky like a fan, but then at midnight, we paused long enough in conversation/thought to notice that we had walked in a full circle and were back at the bridge home. That made neither of us happy, so after thinking for a while, you ran off, and while you ran, I sat on the railing of the bridge and dug in my bag for my matchbook. And when you came back with a jerry-can of gasoline, I had found them, and...

You are made of shell, I know- pale freckled crab-shell, gently perplexed in your eyes, illicit pale red as you talk like snapping claws. This morning we walked very fast under a sky like an ember, breathing in the heavy smoke, breathing in the heavy smoke. The border guards shot at us, but missed. That made us both alive, so we ran through the damp unleaved saplings like a pair of phoenixes, like panthers, and when we came out the other side of the forest, we collided. We collided, rolled, scrambled upright, and found ourselves face-to-face with each other's loaded guns, breathing heavy, burning hard. And we were covered in each other's bruises, and I saw your finger tightening and...