Lions

When we were lions, platitudes yet to slowly drift upon our tables. Grimaces only growing in the glare of the light shining in our eyes, like through vintage lenses, as we drive along highways to new old places. A swipe at any foreign hand that lingered too long. When we were lions, we'd lie down safely knowing we were impervious, permeating unto each other. A laugh, a link, a lakeside drive, a little less fear, a little more alive. Back when we were lions.

Where now we bare our teeth and shrink beneath the wary welts we wear so well. We bare our teeth barely believing in anything impervious anymore. The road gets so big it spreads itself thin. And I can hardly reach you. Lions to outliers to a little more alone than before. I watch the road stretch along the horizon, away from you. I burrow down in any safe ground I can find; it's almost night. It's almost night.

Back when we were lions, sturdy standing amid the moving lines.