those are not cities anymore.

we've been redirected

I've cleaned my gunshot wounds with water from the river

they watched curiously from the shoreline across.

[I set rooftops afire.  When I look at the horizon I only see smoke and embers.  My wake has been devolving revolutions.  I see the vultures everywhere, hidden in costume.  Twitches, details, secrets only a river rat like me would know.  My silence is deafening in my own head.  I say nothing.  I say nothing.  I say nothing.]

we can rest here, for a second

but soon we'll have to move again so they don't...

and then my words were lost in my gaze to the east.

[Catching your breath is a game for the weak.  I've always had it, I just never knew.  I say nothing.  I practice the fine art of wincing in the light from the fires I started.  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  I never knew it would be so bright.  The smell of sulfur will always be in my hair.] 

"Get Ready To Run."

we mutter that under our breaths at all hours

so that this will never happen again

[I've got these options, see.  I've got all these fucking pockets with nothing in them, screaming at me.  I am the cause of these smoke trees reaching far into the sky.  Find a new home.  Pieces scattered in the wind.  Transplant yourself.  Once, I even walked on the beach on a late evening until I found myself again and there were no gunshots and I said nothing but what I really meant was that I was sorry.]