Work Text:
he was named for a rifle. there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.
- what were you dreaming about
- why do your hands shake when you touch me
- why do your hands shake when you make the bed, sheet corners pulled tight tight tight
- why do your hands shake when you drive
- why do your hands shake when we’re at a bar on new years and everyone’s counting down to one and we’re all laughing and screaming and the night is wild and bright and beautiful. you’re giddy and tipsy and kissing me like it’s going out of style and your hands are shaking. why are they shaking
- you’re only 20 and you walk around california like it’s 1968 and the vc’s got your number. who’s got you running like that. who’s got you looking over your shoulder, who’s got you jumping at every sound. why do you hoard joy like someone’s coming to steal it away
- how old were you when you learned how to shoot a gun. no, really, how old. you told my dad that by fifth grade you could have shot the eye out of a deer from thirty paces and you weren’t kidding. my father thought you were kidding but you weren’t kidding. i know 'cause i called you on it and you took me to a shooting range that saturday, steely-eyed and resigned and a little proud. you hit every bull’s-eye and the instructor offered you a job and you complained to me on the drive home about being out of practice and your hands shook the whole time
- how can you shoot so well with such shaky hands
- what were you dreaming about