A chair, a glass, a sip, a sigh. He remembered the day ended in ‘y’. And it was a slowly sinking afternoon. Floorboards chipped, cracked and glued. Bowed from years misunderstood. As they slowly bent into June. No smile, no eyes, not even a touch. She never was one to talk much. So they tried to let the quiet slowly come. She said his words were just wind. He said you get what you give. And her dress slowly fell away. A chair, a kiss, a lick, a sigh. There was no cause no reason why. And slowly they fell apart. Her veneers were hiding broken teeth. She was a drunk and he a thief. And that slowly became the start. He let her steal away his sleep. While he sat in the chair and sipped her drink. And slowly they weren’t there. A windowsill cemetery filled his stare. He whispered them a final prayer. It was a slowly sinking afternoon.