Fallout (Crank 3) - Page 148

outside—by Bakersfield

standards, a cool fall day.

Kyle lights his cancer

stick, takes my hand,

and steers me along

the riverbank. Summer-

fried grass chatters

beneath our feet, and

the water mutters along.

Smoke bothering you?

Kyle asks, blowing it

downwind, away from me.

“Not at all.” He finishes

his cigarette, stubs it out,

pulls me down into a soft

tuft, sits close, and leans

his face into my hair. Sighs.

Tobacco breath escapes

his mouth, yet somehow

it doesn’t make me gag,

and when he lays me back

to see the sky, I find myself

very near heaven. Kiss me.

It’s more order than request,

but I don’t care. All I want

to do is lose myself in him.

I’M SO LOST

I barely notice when my shirt

comes off again, or how the cool

breeze plays strange melodies

Tags: Ellen Hopkins Crank
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