Two Sheets

I float away

in a glass of gin

write snippets

of words

on cocktail

napkins.

I sit on an

old bar stool

while

memories flood

in between

shots and games

of pool.

I squint to

remember the color

of your eyes

the fact that

I'm two sheets to

the wind should

be no big surprise.

You are my

first thought

after last call

beer in a paper bag

or a bottle of wine

has become my

new call sign.

I find a bench

to call my bed

while I try to

imagine your smile

inside my head.

I didn't used to

drink this much

but bitter spirits

make the best company

I can find since we

lost touch.

I've never wanted

so badly to hear

someone's voice

as I do tonight

but you left me

no choice.

So I drink and

forget and use

the cocktail

napkins on my eyes

and mix tears and

ink together

until that final

sun rise.

_______________

Thanks for reading! - Sam