comedy and drama

My hand's in his.

"Can we go home?”

We play hide and seek. I see him, then I don’t. Sometimes, he stands before me, outlined and crisp. Then he’s gone, evaporated. With darkness and light, he's hidden behind things I can't break through.

“Where’d you go?”

I don’t ask him because I don’t know how. He's lonely. I can hear it in his walk. I move too swiftly, but with some grace. I keep looking through my kerosene eyes. I blink then cause fires.

He won’t be found.