Photo by Gabriele Motter on UnsplashThe sign says, “Exit at Your Own Risk.”
The small print hints of stars that fracture in the dark.
Staying’s a bit perilous, too, I opine, fingering the crags defining my face and jabbing the jagged lines on my palms to prove my point.
All this to-ing and fro-ing is too much for my taste, so I curl into myself, tucking my blanket under my chin, twiddle my mental thumbs, and wait for the border to wake, to worm its thick, stark line over the bones of me.
I don’t need a sign to tell me I won’t have to linger long.
And the stars, the stars will burst in night’s murky light.
