We are hard on each other
and call it honesty,
choosing our jagged truths
with care and aiming them across
the neutral table.
The things we say are
true; it is our crooked
aims, our choices
turn them criminal.
Of course your lies
are more amusing:
you make them new each time.
Your truths, painful and boring
repeat themselves over & over
perhaps because you own
so few of them
A truth should exist,
it should not be used
like this. If I love you
is that a fact or a weapon?
this black and white photo never captured my skin, g, 2737 words.
The Winter Soldier wakes up and his eyes are dead, dead, dead.
but the fires are coming by, t, 4003 words.
He does not remember, except that is better than being made to forget, again, and again, and again. He does not go to Brooklyn.
miles to go before i sleep, t, 12k words.
Steve finds Bucky outside of the Smithsonian and invites him home.
we did not make ourselves, g, 25k words.
It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows.
reconstruction site, t, 7671 words.
[In which the Winter Soldier leads Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a wild goose chase through Eastern Europe so that he can learn more about the man who actually thinks he can be saved.]
fitting stars through keyholes, m, 2453 words.
There’s a gun against his neck, the muzzle pressed into the skin beneath his jaw like a harsh kiss, and the first thought that runs through Steve’s head is, “Oh, Christ, I’m going to die in my pajamas.”
people should see how we’re living, t, 2392 words.
There was a stray cat one spring when Steve was a kid, gray and spindly, matted. She used to look at him with these huge eyes, like she was waiting for his fist to close around her neck, like she knew it was shameful weakness letting him this close to her, but she just couldn’t stand to be alone any more. Bucky makes that same face.