I can't edit text, so open space will become dots

[futurefossil]

The faceplates of solitary bar-dwellers
dwindling as hours get less
happy, corners of mouths dragging
them to the ground. Whiskey face:
body screaming, throat reeling.

The only pickup lines you need
will lug a compact from a ditch,
but back-to-back tongues fling mud
over .............. eyes
....... too much ....... shadow.

Comments

[futurefossil]

we ought to meet before the next life or the next one or the next one