Better Than a Day

The six of us snorted crystal meth sat on my black leather couches and fourteen hours said clear words. Fluency in my living room, our supple words stuck to the ceiling and to the walls. By sunrise the room was laden with our careful words and they began to drip. Fourteen hours they rained down, so many trusting words we'd said. We splashed those witty words, lapped the puddles of tear-thought swam those thought-things talked. Crystal meth we snorted and twice of fourteen hours told our language clean.