There is no dragon in this story.
Drawn curtains, rendered hands, no relief.
Bat your eyes the way the willow sways.

No dragon in this story can compete with that scar
on your achilles as it tells a different one,
and the pedestrian bridge holds the rest.

There is no chasing the dragon in this story.
Just a drop of vinegar to cure the grief,
so you can float better in the shade.

Drawn curtains, rendered hands. Let
the relieving pedestrian bridge hold the rest
so you can float her lost letters in the shade.

Drawn curtains, rendered hands, and a belief
in that the scar on your achilles to tell the difference
between just a drop of vinegar and settled grief.

Bat your eyes the way swans float over billows
and the scars of Achilles on a different sea.
You sway better when you don’t throw shade.

Keep your eyes on the willow as it sways
beneath the pedestrian bridge where we will rest
when just a drop of vinegar begins to stir the grief.