An eerie evening,
Compounded with shallow light.

Fragments of my body are
Thrown away like molded oranges.
Pain follows us some years,
Other years we have stores of hope.
And we save it in bottles all bound
For the recycle bin but clanking instead
In the trunk until the perfect day to let
A little aggression out hears them
Smash together against metal,
Releasing the smell of wine into the air.

I stop. Count both fingers and toes
Before turning in.