what the hell?

what the hell? thin moonlight melts, drips onto her, sluices to puddle at her feet, as a spotlight. as smoothly as water streams a stricken gullet, she feels him slip away; the loss of contact butchers her, mentally. her shadow, longer than the halo of moonglow surrounding her, lost in darkness, as is she. 01-28-11 ©tlp 2011