The pale rays of sunlight were fading fast.
Cy dropped her pack, releasing a long breath of air through the filters of her gas mask. Scanning the horizon, she looked around for somewhere to camp for the night.
Hotels weren't easy to come by when World War III had nuked everything. Only post-apocalyptic wastelands remained.
She spotted an outcropping of debris not too far off that she could camp comfortably behind. Shouldering her pack once more, she trudged towards it. Her stomach rumbled, loud in the deserted area. It was nothing uncommon, her being hungry. Her emaciated form showed that, though this amount of undereating was the worst
in my dreams there was a girl
with magpie eyes, corkscrew hair
and who never told lies.
she had the curiosity
of a dozen kittens. with
bitten nails and dirty overalls,
she stared my way, fullmoon gaze,
eyes ablaze.
next to her I sat,
criss-cross-applesauce (though playtime’s long over)
and I told her a story.
and I said “hey, bright eyes, here's a story
about a girl who loves you like a bomb loves a crowd.
she had her universe balanced on a fingertip,
and she turned her smiles into nebulae so stunning,
it could have put Andromeda to shame.
and I’ll tell ya,
it’s good she enjoyed it while it lasted
because soon enou