(no subject)
All senses weigh heavily on my mind, too ill defined to be made thoughts. I want to slip like the bottle of vodka from my grip, swallowed by the woods and the nite's sky, crackling branches and taking everything down with it. The streetlight's glow glistened on the rivers weaving through crevices of wrinkled flesh from her eyes to her lips. She pressed her eyelids together as I held mine open waiting for water to collect. In her arms is where I'm alone.