Deal

We stand on the hillside in summer
The blade glitters faintly
In the cool sway of branches
We turn our head
From a terrible idea
It is unspoken
A deal we had the audacity to control
A wager unbroken
The axe melts the wood
We chop and chip away at the dusty bark
Longing for the sap to trickle down our fingers
It is a melting bite
We are nothing but guests in a dream
A row of terraced houses
A team of roofs
We are aware of every breath
It is granted and probed
A life span
A list of terms
We stand on the hillside in summer.