We are the lost.
the drink is drained to the last
dropping slowly through
infecting sound and vision,
we stumble towards a light
to find a firefly, resting in the air,
humming a brilliance within its belly.

things are not always as they seem
words cannot easily be read through clouded eyes,
but sometimes it is perfect
to rest in this haze
feeling not the past or future,
but the moment of lightness.