when I woke up early this morning, and ( ) had left a few hours before to drive the oceanside highway home (he's probably a good man most of the time, and shows up to work in the mountains when he should), and there was a bag of nectarines hanging on my door, and there was a half empty bottle of bourbon on my kitchen table, and it was cloudy, and the power was out, I knew.
today was the day.
so I tied my hair back with a black scarf, poured a big glass of ( )'s forgotten whiskey, smoked two cigarettes and burnt the tips of my fingers lighting X's love letters on fire.
they burnt slow and I got a bit drunk, tuesday morning and what do I have to show for it? a jar of ashes and a good man's care who will never get in, really.
No comments:
Post a Comment