a devilishly good looking man once told her
that her hair was like a waterfall of the colors of all the best beers

if she'd had another shot of whiskey in her
and there wasn't a hardwood bar crowded with regulars between them
she'd have grabbed him by the face and kissed his shoes off

it's funny
the things she considers sweetness
she's the bar keep who slips anyone nice free pints
just because it's almost friday night
all she wants is to see everybody happy at once

the last time that she went to the bar
the boy that she smiled at all night
slipped her a cocktail napkin that read,
"just because you're breathing,
doesn't mean that you're alive."

she still isn't sure how to take it
but she still knows that he's right