She looks through me
never seeing the love
I’m feeling for her
She’s tall and slim
with hair of sun
Her face, perfection
skin of rare complexion
that mouth unique
that will never speak to me

toward western hills
the last vestiges of light
sink as day draws down

As a young man
I bought a bottle of aged bourbon
leaving it as a reminder
that celebration was near,
but it became my biggest failure
and my expectations flushed
down like brown bloodied bile.

I washed away nights of sin with gin
and begged mercy between breaths
but even then I had known I'd chosen less
as I dabbed my hands with lemon soap
I wrote a goodbye note 'Cheers
to the bottles I never broke open--'