I drank you down
Like apple cider
From this brown broken bottle noose
Moist—cold to touch
Labels peeling
Sticky palms.

I’ve always cut myself
On that
Sweet and sour swag
Mixing
--blood and sugar—
Dripping onto that white sheet canvas
Of one night cheap hotels
Memories left
For others to uncover.

09/22/2011

Posted on 09/23/2011
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