As we chug down iced whisky in our corner booth
with the night to your right
and the past to our selves,
the people we used to be are now gone
but something keeps us holding on.
With no burdens on my back,
I elevated the borders between our feet.
But as you carried on like you always do
I realize most of it was me.
I owed it to my past self-
of periodical, nocturnal sorrow-
to pertain to my former worries
and my former worries I did borrow.
You mentioned once you loved whiskey
in our past feckless lengthy stares.
I taunted you into lots
and to that scene, not much compares.
Your reddened cheeks whose oozed bliss
Your dilated pupils of ocean blue eyes
which I adored.
As your tired mind searched through its archives of memoirs
for where we’d encountered before,
aught was feckless as naught was retrieved.
I furrowed encore through, abundant to your needs
I lied there charmed,
intoxicated by all you did.
All you were, all you said and
all your doings in my head.
But my time had passed
and I’d missed my chance.
Your divine purity of soul
deserved a purer tint of gold.
My dyed silver hair
would never be in your words of prayer.