I still feel your breath against the crook of my collarbone. Heavy and alcohol laced, it mists sticky on my skin. If I close my eyes I can summon the sensation of your fingers wrapped around my wrist. They are long and lean, were they any longer they would be able to wrap around twice. The grip is not that of a vice, its just enough to keep me from escaping. When I try to evoke the spirit of houdini and be an artist about it, the grip becomes a vice and twists. A snakebite. Theres a strange fire in your eyes, even when its dimmed it seems impossible to quell. A smile plays at the corner of the mouth as tears prick at the inside of my eyes. I cant pull away, my vice tightens. The fire is blazing. The mouth gapes and you laugh. Ranging from low to high, it is long and strangely legato. I close my eyes and will it to be over. When I open them, I realise it was just a dream. Yesterday is not now, it is yesterday. Yesterdays never happen again. I look at my wrists and swear I can see an indentation where your fingertips pressed if I protested. Piano players fingers.....