Far Too Easily

I blinked and her wrists spilled down to fluidic pieces, thinking well too well. Thinking we held some hour against the work or wit and that I was any part or piece of it. I blinked and the sounds of us waned, the beauty and bettered part knowing the difference over broke and broken. Seeing the marks and flesh that wilts away. A hand held under clouds as they gently rained... admittedly far too easily.