one can't hope
to measure a night

by the meager things in life

it has nothing to do
with what
you ate
or how good (you think)
you looked

the faces in the fray
the ones that stuck in your head
or

the miles you drove
or how drunk you got
or wanted to get

or if you ended up alone
at the end of it,
because in the city filled with lights
and laughters
and distractions & disasters

you know that you always end up alone

but
it's measured by

whether or not
you can count the stars on your fingers

fiery
hardly
contained
by the body

that I see
swaying
and preying
upon me

a familiar
situation
as is your
demeanor

And against all
second thought
I dream
between her

but when she's
gone by daw

the liquor will
still be there

spinning with
the room

erasing
her stare

cigarettes &
the bottle
to

usher in
drab tomorrows

there's no
substitute
for
human contact

nothing that brings
the body to shiver
like the touch

nothing that makes sleep
sweep in quicker than
the heat of another

but

smiling is much
easier
when you're so
drunk you
can't feel
your face