The alcohol in my system makes me its mission.
Tells me, darling, it’s okay to admit you too are tainted,
something in the silence of the moment says safety, but fear spills from my mouth as
words stain the air with glass bottle shards of no going back.

His whiskey lips bleed, “I don’t know what to say...”

I don’t know which words to have him kiss feed back to me,
so we swim in rose-petaled silence
and say nothing.