Walking home with a heart as heavy As my feet on the wet tarmac. Above my head, the streetlamps light the afternoon Competing with the dying sun to light my way.
Steps leading down to the river Down to the water where it rushes, Rushes over rocks smoother Than his smile. Her feet on the stones were light, Bare toes brushing the hewn Stone.
The bottle in her hand was black, the label emblazoned with red and gold. She tilted back her head to take a swig, Hair sliding off her shoulders to expose Her slender neck to the world.