vicodin and xanex, numb and calm. spitting out every thought that could find the shortest path to our lazy, sedated mouths. lying on a grass-covered river bank, writhing in the heat, laughing at the audacity of the sun. warm drinks and unfiltered cigarettes, ashes falling into the water like so many dead cherry blossoms.

beads of sweat gliding down her throat, down a clavicle, down between soft breasts. flushed and captivating, finger tips gliding up and down hot skin.

she is so dangerous. the familiar pulling, it would be so easy to let go...