We all have out tipple of choice, mine
It's potent breath intertwines with mine
filling my lungs with pleasure.
Satisfying all of my dreams and desires.
as my words become dizzy, muddled.
Phosphene eyes to match. Spirits,
A wonderful serendipity,
i am free.
my mouth runs away with me, legs
The clock strikes, it's hand jittery
fire slides down my throat
incinerates my blackened liver,
kindles my tired slurs.
I smile, an collapse
into the streaming sun.
We al have our tipple of choice
some like wine, on a Friday.
I like mine.