on any rain soaked week day on a day like this one i would. and in those moments when sight and sound make that wood and everything in between goes so violent and echoing. and the world filled warm like spearmint schnapps. and i cave and cave again against the scarlet tone of the back of your neck. the curves of the bones beneath your feet. and we sink into tepid water. of baths and memories and things that go cold so fast. like spite. and when you say my name it sounds like the same name that i call myself. and everything around me feels like falling. damp right this rain. would fall me down.