Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Coming on suddenly, she had bear claws and puppy-dog eyes.

The mailbox post stood like a frontier tombstone.

Leaving a wet bloody metallic taste after every swig, it led to a vicious cycle- always drinking more to try and erase that flavor.

A heady high, just from trying to keep your balance.

Wobbling like a walrus.

An alliterate illiterate.

One door rusts from beneath.

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