If you gots the poison, I gots the remedy


As I traced the scars that ran down the left side of your body, you told me calmly about how you were attacked by a tiger in Belize, and how you were kidnapped by your father to Idaho when you were 5, and the little girl who played the cello and taught you how to play chess and kiss.

And you went on and on, for hours while we layed in bed, telling me of all the things that can kill you in a rainforest. All the deadly things that were so oddly situated in such a beautiful landscape. Fire coral in the clear blue water. Trees with poisonous thorns that protected the antidote that grew on top of it. All, as my finger traced the tiger claw tracks that ran like a river across your ribs.