And some remain.

I find, most of the time, it's easier to walk away, gun cold. I'm good with words, see, and I just hate to hurt feelings. It's that damned need to always stick up for the under-dog.

Even the ones I tie to the tree myself.

~~~

He swayed, one foot to the other, a boat in dock. I closed my eyes and imagined that sweet wet sound of tiny waves on worn-out wood. My hands were on his back where his kidneys lay underneath. His were on my spine, warm on my small bird bones. Eyelashes up like shutters, I noticed our eyes were the same shade of blue. I thought of siblings and knew I loved him just as carelessly.