Desert coloured leather croaks
with the pressure of heated skin.
Hardly audible
over the static of labored breathing.
Outstretched arms that once whispered the hour
had succumb to silence;
for time had stood still
and my memory rapidly decayed
like the flesh of an aged apple,
like your image in the back of my mind,
it decayed.
And so quickly did you become the liquid
that fills this bottle
and seeps through my veins.
The liquid i cannot see.
My eyes did only catch
the blurs which were my surroundings.

first journal entry! yay!