I drip the way condensation does
down ice cold beer in a TV commercial
when she looks at me.
I'm soaking up cardboard coasters,
sweating labels off bottles
until she wraps her hands around me again,
kissing me with those flower petal like lips,
drinking me all in.

I know I'm not what she needs
but right now I'm what she wants.
Not to stroke my own ego
but I am a good time,
I'll get you to undo that top button
even make you laugh
and maybe, just maybe
I'll even get you to dance
but no matter what I promise
or what I deliver,
I know at the end of the day
when the fun is done
and the headaches fade,
I am poison.
And when she's had too much of me
I'll make her sick.
***** spit in bathroom sinks
because she's too beautiful
to have her head in the toilet.

I'm the answer to feeling sad,
I'm the easy late night phone call
that never goes unanswered
but I am not the man
she marries, no not at all
because as sweet as I taste
or as gently as she may kiss my face
I am going to disappoint her.
The way I have disappointed
all the others before her.