Addict

Mahogany maple syrup runs in spider web lines.My father never uses the stuff, heeats pancakes, powdered, butter moist.When I was a child, he knew more of straightness. Lines and razors were friends.One night he tried to die by his hand. A girljumped before he walked to the ledge.Her mangled body wore the rails like a girdle,her limbs so thin they became a blood putty. Angel,her name. They had to lift the train to take her out.