more monroe than onassis.

no more pain, 
just watered down whiskey and dull fingertips. conversations loud, like she was missing the point. like she was missing. but no matter. here, there were no tides rocking her boat. she was stable, sailing out into the oceans and river mouths. further and further, away away, until her heart was just another line in the horizon.
the conversation gets louder. liquor breath carrying her name.
there she finds an anchor, a leak. the rope that drags her back to shore. 
forever moored, forever mourned.

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