It stuck to her lips- ethanol;
Seeping through those crevices-
wax-painted , yet supple, soft;
Like the rest of her.

Those droplets still dangled,
Wavering- clenching;
the bitter doses
and their vibgyor spirals- spun;

these voices needed to be hushed-
so we decided to use a cigarette,
to burn our souls
…and hide behind the smoke;

Now it was just us,
those anaerobic strings of air,-spinning,
the shadows slipping, across the walls-
those rays of light softly reflecting
…from her thighs;

Her fingers trembled,
Skin on skin- and fermentation-
She stung; like vinegar,
that promise of toxic sweetness still lingered;

So we drove on, like empty vessels-
Trying.
Yet it didn’t exist.