After we ran away: mold in our motel room, zits and a zirconium overture. Two hoodies on one journey; our families searching for us like bedbugs. You talked of train rides, a hitchhiker bride in a dueling guitar romance. I tumbled after you, my rough ravine, where foreign vines gained. My first time in cuffs: ego a mildewed log crumbling under weight. Our kudzu attraction meeting the fiercest flame; I destroyed a forest in your name.
