Through the smudge on the window, I can see grey clouds burst with anger.
I hadn’t felt this since last September; the embers of another season, slapping its will to hit the walls, draining through a gutter.

The autumn leaves scatter across the lawn, through the window.
She caught me with her hair, cascading to the small of her back.
Raking her hands through her hair when she hits rock bottom.
Tangling her in bedsheets for leisure, for pleasure before dawn.
I yawn with anticipation.

A basion of ecstasy shook the ground beneath upon which my feet stood.
I’m sitting on the bed, thinking that I’m dead.
She’s drinking in a bar and driving my car.
The phone, I hear it ring.
Voice of hers on the other end.
I need you to bail me out, dude.

One thought on “Drinking

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