By night

The point comes in the night when words are all we have left of each other; it doesn’t matter what we look like anymore. We fill each other’s glasses, taste each other’s drinks and laugh in between the roaring silences of each other’s words. We forget who said what. We get too drunk and walk home in the white noise, alone or together. We text each other to congratulate, commiserate, plead, accuse, sending to the wrong people. And we’re still to be, and still to come.

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One response to “By night

  1. And still to never was!

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