Copperysky

she sleeps. How long must I wait? you turn to face slipping stars. night scents roll over your skin to mix with hers. lashes laced...anything else... dripping tones flood your mind and seep out, out into the dark. What does it take? NO you grasp the edges and tug but it rushes over, and each note echoes in your vacant chest. the song beats like the last breaths of something kicking, dying. cooled blood on asphalt under the unflinching morning light. toes on the oak To get a drink in this place...