Addicted to the rush of the bubbles across my lips
Not so much a physical fetish but just a psychological condition
Of being dependent on a liquid that fizzes
Like the feeling of running down the aisles of empty seats
Feeling like a god, gliding on air to jump onto an unpeopled stage
With an unfocused spotlight
My vision is blurry and my head is spinning and
I'm falling in circles and it's wonderful
Bubbles coming up my throat
And it reminds me of thinking of you
The aches in the back of my calves
Running my fingers down the cold skin with nothing to warm me
But a feeling of warmth radiating out from my core
I'm in love with being tall and proud
In an empty room
With a styrofoam cup freshly drained
And nothing but love on the brain