Bottoms up

all that you have consumed has turned to vapours
and as you sleep, the steam of yeast and inhibition
blows through the pores of your skin like a slow puncture
and a liquor mist clouds the ceiling and enslaves me
it scratches my throat and chokes me with your neglect
every night the same ritual to varying degrees of abuse
until it is your maiden and I am forsaken for it’s sake
so take your bottle and drown in its nectar again and again
as I close the door behind me and walk away walk away

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Say what you mean, and mean what you say

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