Drinking Hour, by Rin Baatz

Rosy, so rosy now.
You tip the liquid fire
down your throat
and take the wheel.

Nobody else is out.
It’s dark for this time of day.
It’ll be fine. It’s late.
You’re running late.

The wheel hurts your
warm hands.
Shaking, shivering,
you take control.

So far so good.
You don’t notice
how you slip
from lane to lane.

The warmth consumes you
and you’re lulled by the
rocking of the car.
The other car.

The tire catches nothing
and you slip into oblivion.
White backdrop melting,
painted red.


3 thoughts on “Drinking Hour, by Rin Baatz

  1. I love this! The imagery is so beautiful and I love the never-quite-saying-what-happens-right-out. I hope to see more from you!

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