On the Lag

Transmissions among us.

A day of midnights, and we wanted the endless blue. We waited for the bodies to walk from the graves and when they did, we saw them as flashes of what we could not explain, would not mention. We were watching for bands of jays. We wanted, walking at the lake’s edge, escape. Escape! we said. Wild, we said, Untamed! Aspirational declarations, we did not know their substances and heard the dead sometimes like voices between sleep and waking. They offered up secrets, but we had yet to learn their language, smug visitors that we were, proud of our rage, our escapes, our untamed hungers. The rest was late and deep and went on mostly unseen.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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