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Sit by my side,
talk me through,
let your sweet breath
caress my swollen eyes.

I select you.

Tell me about your past,
talk me through,
each misstep and lie,
the cadence makes it fine.

Curl up next to me,
talk me through,
make sure my heart beats,
but don't let me fall victim to dreams.

Call me your best friend,
talk me through,
if I show weakness, tangle about hair,
please don't call me handsome.

If we make it past night,
if you talked me through,
I'll make you breakfast
and you will make laughter.

Will you select me too?

Let's keep the trade even,
talk me through,
I'll distract you, you'll distract me,
from all the old lovers that proved themselves typical.
Copyright Sept. 17, 2010 by J.J. Hutton
When I Drink, I Write
but I think, in spite
of the dreams, at night
always seem, within sight
so attached, to our plight
when we crash, we're in flight
a flashback, we just might
call up, start a fight
just cuz, it feels right
the buzz, it is bright
oh love, it's a fright
but through dark, is light
before mourn, is night
I will be all right
forlorn, and trite
when I drink, I write

To Someone New.

— The End —