regret is a pestilence

Outside the world lives. The pavement still wet from the rain. A man leans against a lamppost smoking. The air light and the cloudless sky stares back blankly at the night.

A girl sits by her window. Perhaps struggling with a memory hazy from the lingering effects of alcohol and melancholy. His fingers have left prints on her arm- that and the aching longing in her lips were all that’s left of the hurried kiss.

In the empty streets of 2 am, secrets are spilled out into the gutters- to be forgotten in the morning. forbidden lustful gazes and touch unbridled taunt the stars envious of human frailty.

Bourbon bottles emptied into shot glasses sweating into polished bar tables. Deep in the consciousness regret and longing burn against complicity and fate.