Shawn Smith’s web ninja life

she paced
skipping the cracks between wooden planks
toeing the bridge only with the balls of her feet
then whirling around and retracing her steps

“where do we go from here?” she asked

I smelled like the afternoon and dirt
and sweat
and i locked my fingers behind my head
raised my elbows
and then leaned back against the rusted steel railing that matched my shoulders’ height
staring at the blue, cloudless sky

“I don’t know. I can’t make that decision for you,”
I said.

I sighed deeply, my breath had been short
like it has often recently
and I wonder if I have minor asthma

“So I have to make the decision?” she asked, blankly and suddenly nervous. empowered.

“Nope. I do too. It’s an independent thing for both of us.”

She pranced some more, up and down, side to side, around and back. then repeated.

all the time waving her green checkered skirt, i could see the tops of her thighs and wasn’t afraid to look.

not talking, and we both sweat in the humidity and shade of the trees that branched over the river and the bridge.

no talking.

“I think..” she paused. Maybe.”

she looked at her feet, never at me, she looked at the steel poles, never at me, the boards, the trees, the sky, her eyelids’ inside, not me.

“i think it would be best,”
deep sigh now, gaining strength.
“If we didn’t talk for a while,”

“I see,” I said.

“Is that what you want?” she asked, scared still

“I don’t know, I’ll find out later”

We walked. Then stopped, and nervous again, both and sick.

“Should I hug you?” I posed.

“I don’t know”

“Do you want to hug me?” i rephrased,

“Yes, but if you don’t want to,”

“Just don’t get your sweat on me,” I said quickly
and embraced

Then I didn’t look at her again

And walked back to the bridge