This fight never should have happened.
Like they are whitewater rafting through the silver screen.
All the women walk along Waikiki Beach like models on a runway.
Sometimes it is best to provide no feedback at all.
In nothing but one stocking.
A twin bed with noisy springs covered in tinsel.
She splashes whiskey all over the desk.
Paper thin masked fighters bleed out from the jungle.
Sometimes, it is just plain wrong to double space between lines.
Just outside my peripheral vision.