Sipping Sour Nectars

It's always that easy.



Just say my name. Tell me who you think I am.

Easy.

To be anything. Sprinting the highways in your palm. Visiting the little towns tucked between the mountains in your hands. Worn skin my gasoline. The taste of submission's menthol emptying my head.

It's always so easy. Unconsciously everything happens while I'm not there.

Too distracted with the abstract of the moment. How when even the most familiar things get too close it's impossible to recognize.