A quiet night, my head full of smoke, the whiskey warmed my throat as I sat slowly sipping. Fingerlings of cold air attempting to worm their way into the bleached white sheets encouraged me to burrow deeper. A brief sweetness, a small oasis hidden amid hectic schedules and miles of highway, placed for safekeeping in memories and words, lest I forget.

A dalliance which set my head to reeling all while anchoring me in something gentle.

The remnants of this brief respite are just the sighs in my lungs and the smile at the corners of my mouth.

The sting is gone and all that’s left is a wistfulness.


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