Exposition
Ignored books full of glaring, unread, unmarked pages; sheets damp with regret; abandoned drinks scattered on the dresser, reflecting the Christmas lights that invests them with uncalled for beauty. So tragic, unfinished alcoholic beverages, wasted potential washed down the morning-after drain.
[And when you take my cold hands in yours to rub them alive, my heart is huddled in the soft ache between my fingers, saying "hug me kiss me love me, prove that someone can", and honey, my shoulder brushes are hardly casual, they're the most deliberate caress]
[And when you take my cold hands in yours to rub them alive, my heart is huddled in the soft ache between my fingers, saying "hug me kiss me love me, prove that someone can", and honey, my shoulder brushes are hardly casual, they're the most deliberate caress]