nested...

night fell,
ash against powder, or
perhaps the reverse.
her back curved outward,
into the flex of his abdomen,
which rose,
quivered slightly,
sunk again.
she concentrated on his breath,
hanging heavy and
laced with burbon:
sweat which formed
against the windows of
the car,
rolling down in fingers,
casting long shadows
across his
face.

(august was as
summer month and
therefore very
far away).

theirs was a collective exterior

often referred to as

wholesome, which affected

them both little and much,

depending on

the state of the day.

was there gin in the freezer?

top notch?

alongside other

materials to

create the

perfect

martini?