Waterlust.

I felt the letters trickle down, dripping from the open space between my lips and my teeth. Spelling out names in black needles on backs of sun kissed skin. Leaving silver marks on tired cheeks. Illuminated by the black light. Filling empty space and empty boards with triple scores. Letters. I remember seeing fence posts against your arms, like blue birds lining barbed wire. It was strange to see you like that, in my head like that.

I felt numb driving home. Dead driving.To thick clouds of gray haze, a giant cloud of smoke hovering above the city. It's so dense here.

I stared at a fixed point above the cars in front of me. Lemon daylight above silver tin. I followed signs, I let them lead me to the drop off. I shouldn't have. I should have driven blindly. Let the road take me. To steel factories reflecting off salty lakes. To driftwood shores and charcoal skies. To rippling mast forests. Lost at night. Driving blindly.

Waterlust.