An empty glass rests on the bar. Foam coats the inside, and slips down to rest in the amber dregs.
Beside it, a fragile stemmed glass stands, self conscious, rimmed in sugar.
Careless, fluttering hands knock them both to the floor. Glass on wood. Painted toes an
(more)d leather boots back up and form a ring.
The bearded, sainted, tattooed bartender comes round the bar with a broom and dustpan to sweep away the evidence and embarrassment.
Eyes meet across the arena of glass and broom twigs, dark and light.
Outside, the rain comes down and down and down.
*
Undone cuffs, ink snaking under flesh, bursting into color at elbow, collarbone, breastbone. Silk scraps abandoned, silver jewelry jingling off ears, wrists, neck.
A mess of hair, dark and light, curls and streams of it, tangled round fingers, pulling, winding, clenching.
Pulling in, in, in.
Fingers uncurl, relax, release.
*
An empty coffee cup on the kitchen counter.
Another on the table.
*
Soft spring rain streams down the windows.
Down and down and down.
(less)
