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Contenders


She typed her entire novella
on her smart phone. He
ran around the hurdles
instead of over them.
They skated as if Olympic
contenders. When they spun 
it was impossible to know their
thoughts. On the ladder, he
climbed to the roof to retrieve
soggy leaves from the gutter.
There he found tiny cars with
doors that opened and closed.
They hadn't spoken since
yesterday. Colorblind, he
wore tattoos of indecision 
like a street vendor, attracted
children. They held hands
at the movies clothed in the 
same colors in the dark 
theater.She continued 
stitching spines. One at a time. 
He cut out profiles of the 
sea. Remembered sailing.


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