I was visiting once and while pacing around the kitchen
I found a single wooden drawer chock full of keys.
Some were older than others and you
could tell that the weight of their metal
could keep a tent on the ground through
gusts like the mountains were breathing.
The radio towers in the distance blinked
their red eyes against the pitch dark sky
like the lights were just suspended onto
nothing.
The background thoughts of rain carved
out paths against a window in the living room,
and she was walking down the stairs when she
asked me to list all the reasons why I was awake.
There were too many to get through in one sitting
so we both just agreed to let the morning be the morning,
and for tonight to end right then to appease our adulthood.
Laying next to her afterword I could smell pomegranates
like she had crushed one over her head and let the juice
fall over her hair and then the rest of her body.
After closing my eyes the pile of rust reappeared in my mind
and I asked her in whispers what the drawer full of keys was about.
After yawning and facing the opposite wall she mumbled
and claimed she just took them where ever she found them.
I got out of bed and walked barefoot down the tile stairs.
She followed and tried to convince me to come back to sleep.
I pulled the kitchen drawer out of the counter like a stone
out of the mud, and walked out though the front door into the rain.
She told me I had gone insane but with a vision in my brain
I disappeared out toward the towers to return what she had taken,
and when I finished she would finally be mine.
Teleporting Typewriter 