so I drank half the bottle
to tell her how I felt
but wasn't home that morning;
she took me straight to bed.
though all I am is a drunkard -
my best to gasp and writhe.
and the only landslide I want to cause:
convulsions between her thighs.
All cross eyed, in dead men's skies.
and I could sleep beneath dancers.
but as for now I'll play my fill
But she'll struggle to move me after.
Until then she does try and try
to make me gasp and writhe.
But she can feel what I cannot -
Breathing "I love you"s between her sighs.