Functionally Intoxicated

I adore the way
my thoughts fall prey
to your no-longer-fleeting
glimpse.

I’ve noticed the way
my thoughts betray
words which then break into
lisp.

I’ve lived a stray,
trapped in decay
of my own unwillingness and
din.

I’ve huddled in lay
of disarray
trying to correct my
sin.

For I found my heart,
my beating part
in the sin that lives within
the gin that is your grin.

And in words exchanged with kin,
I feel the warmth of my skin.
As your soul, it dwells within
in place of former intravenous sin

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6 thoughts on “Functionally Intoxicated

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