My eyes meet the day
at half past noon,
My morning tea is replaced
by a spiked blue lagoon.
By evening I’m drowning
In a glass of Chardonnay,
While reasoning with my heart
to meet my brain halfway.
As the clock strikes quarter past seven,
The mixologist in me whips up a brandy Manhattan.
I welcome the dawn
With a tequila sunrise,
And sleep off the hangover in multiple cries.
But that’s before I met myself,
And witnessed the most potent form of love.
So I let the bottles burn to ash,
And indulged in a whole lot of self love.