Monday, May 16, 2016

She finds it difficult to breathe in the steep stairway that leads to the bathroom. It is lit, but she's night blind, there is the pulse of the drums and the bass in the soles of her feet, through her heels.

Someone knocks into her, sloshing; sloshed. "Hey, hello?

Hello?

Are you there?

A hand, reaching

two hands, holding. Tugging, caressing. (This isn't sexual)

It is a flow

The thud up, of breath in his gut, under a halogen bulb, bloody summer night air, slick un-ruptured skin and a gasp, tears

Crocodile tears pero verdadero y la realidad es que todos pueden trabajar los mismos como son posibles.