I felt eons of times within those hours.
Age seeped as osmosis through the dermis,
soaking, decaying,
turning youth towards eld before appointed phase.
Waiting for dusky eve.
Was there ever a moment like this?
Prepared the shell,
choosing clothes, bathing, scenting, dressing,
preening, primping for this unusual first rendezvous.
The clock watched, as card smoothed on worn table.
Handwritten would be best for this haggard spent life.
I took my time,
with each letter and loop,
no mistakes here.
Intentions made by true.
I signed it with a flourish,
and laid it to rest.
Ready to be taken and read,
along with the twine tied parcel
which contained a special gift to make the future easier.
An ordered affair.
A shudder of pleasure on choosing that way.
Instinct led the turn to the hands.
Ah, I knew.
Nothing more perfect,
bright azure turning to indigo,
ready to wash my blues away to black
or white.
A slip of lip gloss and with sip of wine,
a tablet.
Then another.
Sip, pop. gulp, sip, pop, gulp.
Until both bottles emptied.
Another slip to shine the smile,
as I slid beneath the covers.
Lay back and sigh,
Calm and think of nothing.
They would find me,
asleep on the bed,
Clean, fresh, tidy, smart,
with a note of my actions,
and details of a life lived in flesh and digital,
and how remains would remain.
An attractive arranged date with death?
Or a cry for help, gone too far?
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