Kind of like the end of the day where the light is just right... The gloaming, a twilight taking form, speaking mysteriously to the leaves. Whisperer of words, a dream caught just left of fear and happiness.

Strands of speech linger like restless lovers, timing off by a heartbeat or two... Supple strangeness a kinky sort of moment, Trapped, beaten. Sounding just like her last word brushing against my skin.

I lost the second time.