too much mashed potato, half a cup of lukewarm tea for the undeserving Vittoria, pools of liquid filling each other, warm night air after much cold, thoughts of jazz eyes and smokey throats, utter emptiness and lack of inspiration, staying in bed far too long that you become sticky with stillness and your bones begin to burn, burn. heart pains (literal ones, not metaphorical), some gin and ice, lying amidst piles of clothing that no longer belong in a wardrobe, reading and forgetting how to talk. are you scared of death? there are bats in the trees. No.