It's this haze of neon that makes us dumb and better
for the wrong reasons. The gin and
your lipstick on my mouth and my eyes on your collarbone
because I swear to god it's the best ******* thing I've ever seen.
Intoxication seems to be a mood these days,
a feeling. In the evening air into which we give.
You pull me out of my head and into the world. Into
you. And I
probably won't forgive you for that down the road.

Everything else is everything else. Blurred,
smoked out by the fire
that is your touch. Bring your heat closer.
Closer. And closer still. Burn me out, please,
so I don't have to see
tomorrow. Next week, next month, next year
alone. Let me indulge while I can.
Because you give me euphoria
but I'm learning
that all I give you is a buzz.