Charred whiskey slid like pedals to the floor.
My eyes gloss and stomach beckoned.
I cripple to the temptation.
Less suddenly becomes more and the light becomes too bright.
Pinching the synapse, clasping the short glass,
I make shortcomings with dreamed rememberings.
I study the tape and steal belongings which were mine to begin with.
The books misled to facts scoured to the ashen leaves.
And we continued our self-worth burning a pyre to the tempered glass.
The label had hid the noxious liquid's strength.
I had laughed with seasons of scores written to the gestures of rain drops.
We touched the eye lids of skies wanting snow upon our fields.
I, then, touching my torch once again to the salt water,
Swallow yet another faltered vague fantasy.
Promising entirely to swallow me empty.
<(^_^)>
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