it becomes a glaring match
between me and the girl
on the other side of the island

we go at each other like
tiger cubs, too young to
know when we have sunk
our teeth in too deep.
no chaperone to break
us up and send us away
to our corners
we keep going until
one of us has ended up laying
cold on the floor

it has become
a staring contest
between me and the orange
bottles as its fine print shouts
at me the signs i have
to look out for
just so i can be sane

safe
alright.