The door rode its hinges slow burnin to flush with the wall. all on its own. This was not prerecorded.
Equal parts coffee and milk collapsed into cafe au lait in her delicate grip, as some carefully chosen words quickly fell from her lip in a tumble. His eyes almost crossed like her legs just across the tableau.
A still life came over the scene. The words, though, careful but carelessly scrawled, etched out of toned minds, now splayed now sprawled.
His words and hers made commotion in the silent unrest laid before them, his vest firm buttoned and frozen. Her LBD tighter and blacker than before, suddenly. Her dead ends tapering off past the bleach. His beard sharp to prove her softness.
His words and her words, the curse words dissociate, and volume of light come through like a maid, dusting off old and maybe great expectations. Poaching the eyes.
Sudden shy slight indy movement. His hand on her thigh. More determined in half of half seconds. They smile off confusion which falls by the way, down to die.
The music, all sound of mundane, none profane, starts up again. The egg timer ticks. The cars in the street. The birds in trees. The cat-like energetics all replete.
She softens all ripe with a sigh. They breathe. Toward infinity.