close your eyes.
sick from this unsucuumbing circumstance little veins, twitch and writh, dancing under your neck.
you smile hard; this autumn air moves you,.
far away from the technical maps.
far away from solutions,.
this bitter air draws around your clutched fist..
making that bouqet seem fuller.
the days and her memories play into you.
smoothing her fingertips up the small of your back.
twitching your small intenstine into manically clenching knots.
the sky draws a breath; you stand frozen, dumbfounded by its pink exhalation.
these buildings stand as unsoothing reminders of people you love but cannot touch..
of memories that remain just that.
another cork pops..
/close./
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