(no subject)
Two thousand and six bumped into my mouth and leaked a sapor of blood, post alley count down. It collapsed on a wooden white fence. It ingurgitated wine, whiskey and ale. It held hands and stared fixedly at it's anxiety, encouraging swig after swallow. It spat out every word with those keyboards and kids, and danced until it was faint. It programmed my finger to dial every five minutes. It clawed the concrete that collected salty water. It equivocated, it equivocated. It went from goodbye to goodnight. It emptied a mattress and rolled into you.
Happy new year.
Happy new year.