Tent fortresses against the world

Rockets red glaring at me out of the darkness. Eyes shovelled into piles. Sandbags against the coming flood. Under tables where we made love and slept out the storm together. Tent fortresses against the world. Mobile strips twirling in the breeze. Cool water curls in, pooling misty waves over our laps. Chickens cluck in the yard. Memories of saliva shriveled on my nightstand. Yellow paper folds and unfolds in a sealed shoebox under my bed. Rewriting time and history and all the things that went right and wrong between us. Yesterday was one for the history books. Too bad they’ve all been washed away.