Fallout (Crank 3)

defiance.

Apology without regret.

The desire to challenge,

still. And, obvious through

a red haze of my own,

anger.

Autumn

KRISTINA IS OUT OF STEAM

I can’t help but feel sorry

for her. She is a bird,

too broken to fly.

I look

across the granite width

of table, beyond crystal

glassware and cloth napkins.

Notice the way Trey smiles

at her,

as if telling her she has said

exactly the right thing. But

Hunter is not swayed. Summer,

too, seems unconvinced.

And I

find

in Kristina’s refusal to meet

anyone’s eyes, in her knuckles

that tap without rhythm,

fear.

And in the way she hugs

her secrets close, like I must

continue to hold on to mine