wrecked

maybe it's a change
like turning off her light
plunging her into blackness
the soft dots of light illuminating
the planes and shadows of skin
wild eyes grasping at the sparks.
it's downing it all, together
and swaying where you stand
cheeks burning up and mouth
sickening with the aftertaste.
and the hollow room
where the stragglers gathered
in corners and drank quietly
and she looked from face to face
and felt nothing.
clutching his hand, begging him
in words that barely echoed.
believing she would die
with the resounding door.
swinging over sofa-backs
you lie, you lie, you lie.
and rotten in the morning sun
the grass a metallic sheen
hands too numb to feel
face too cold to move.