that letter



i remember that letter
still have it locked away
in a small metal box
the only one
you ever wrote to me

two pages of perfect penmanship
letting me know
just how terrible a person
you thought i was

i read it twice
couldn’t believe my eyes
the first time through

not a scratch scribble or single
crossed out word
wondered later
how many drafts it took you
to get your disapproval
written down just right

i received it the same day
six and i
walked across a dirt weed
soccer field over there
the wind was up
it was hot as hell
at each end of the sad field
were makeshift soccer goals
made out of chicken wire

six asked how the letter was
i laughed and shrugged

in front of us
10 yards from a chicken wire goal
20 decapitated heads
were lined up with great care
perfectly parallel to the goal line

i stopped walking

sixkiller adjusted his rifle
took three deliberate strides
and kicked one of the heads
with the instep of his boot
the head rolled
like a half flat ball
across the dirt
into the back of the goal

i folded up your letter
looked around
watched a small
sick starved dog run by me
a human foot in its mouth
i stuck the letter
in my pocket

i wasn’t entirely sure
but more than reasonably confident
you may have been judging me

a bit too harshly



Words and Image: B. Reeves



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