Fumble.

fumbles for the bourbon

There’s elegance in bacchanalia, somewhere.

Wipe the counter.

She’s not here.

One, two, three.

says something clever to her

What would she do, if she were here?

She’s not here.

One, two, three.

Would she approve of her? No, she wouldn’t. Think I remember it wrong. Think it’s inspired by convenience. Think. Contort. Let’s entertain this. Or please don’t. “Fuck,” muttered in baritone.

situates person

What are my hands doing? Platitudinous.

Hands are holding me up.

Hold it down.

The counter’s immaculate.

One, two, three.

notices her glance

undulates between the kitchen and the living room. notices her noticing. feigns indifference. becomes actual indifference with increased application

Seek a more favorable balance.

pinches; shreds; ravels; rolls; lights; flips record

That’s synecdoche.

Easy now.

Fuck, words ending in y are discomfiting.

her question is valid

answers; carefully practices sophistry but not, like, that carefully

Words, in an order. Hell of a throw, man.

TIMING LIKE THAT COMES FROM YEARS OF PLAYING TOGETHER. CONSUMMATE PRO.

The good guys are up.

Look up.

Hold it down.

FROM THIS ANGLE WE SEE THAT HIS KNEE ISN’T DOWN, BOB.

Bob; weave; repeat.

Overdrive.

enterochromaffin responds to stimuli

enters the bedroom

One, two, three.

So afraid of losing it in the first place, ignoring the indisputable fact that there’s precisely a 50 percent chance it would be recovered.

Best offense is a good defense.

Platitude.

closes door

clothes off

Off putting.

Put it off for a while.

THE CALL ON THE FIELD STANDS.

Stand up.

Up.

Up.

Up.

One.

Two.

Three.

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