this piece was inspired by a good friend a lifestyle I long for. all characters/feelings are fictional, just like every other piece.
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Skinny hands under the curve of my cheek, my eyelashes brush against his finger tips, letting light in , f-stop by f-stop. Wind and the smell of tar choke me. My lips are dry, and dirt has gathered in the corners of my mouth. My tongue is a gravel pit, and my bangs are hanging in my eyes - I haven't seen a shower in over a week.

"Good morning, beautiful."


My hands reach up to his face, and I trace weeks of red and brown stubble. Tiny freckles under my finger tips, then chapped lips. Soft eyelashes under the eyes that capture the sun and my love, bigger than any fire star.

"How was your sleep?" he asks. My neck is sore from the backpack-pillow, my face indented from the straps and I am cold. "Well. How are you?" A big smile, hands on his belly, he replies "ah, you know. i am a man in need of little sleep." On that note, he opens his backpack and pulls out his portable kettle, a lighter, coffee grounds, and twigs we collected at our last stop. We huddle beside each other, facing the back of the train car. We light a tiny fire in the base and hunch our backs to shelter it from the draft of this speeding train. He pours the coffee grounds into a kleenex filter and pour the water in. It steeps for a few minutes, and then he fills our tin cups. It's dark and bitter - perfect. I can't remember how coffee from a 'real pot' even tastes.

Leaning against the cold steel, we sip our coffee and let our bones and blood come alive. He slips a gloved hand in mine. I smile and turn towards the west, gazing at the Rocky mountains that share my heart with this boy. I lean against him, skinny ribs and all, and I feel his lungs heaving up and down, sucking it all in.