Vermouth

Outside the window, the sky turns black as the thunder rolls in. You haven't left the apartment all day, now it seems too late. You cancel plans to cross the boroughs, run your fingertips across someone else's question marks, dive into work instead and wonder how the twists of words may soothe what ails you. The summer disappears under your feet, the life disappears behind your eyelids, four days in the Pennsylvania woods run from your skin like a monsoon. 

There's an answer somewhere in these depths. 

I'll find it
if it so kills me.