Before The Inevitable Hungover
I hold in my hands
words where you've spilled
yourself for me
to see,
terms of endearment
that took me years
to utter,
the language of love
your tongue taught me
to speak.
Drinking my nth
bottle of San Miguel,
I realize
you taught me
a lot of firsts.
Beer, you said,
is an acquired taste.
Before you know it,
you'll forget
how the malt
even assaulted you
in the beginning.
Still scared shitless
of my lonely tomorrows,
I light your letters
on fire,
watch the flames
eat away
the plains of paper
holding testimony
to our yesterdays
and swear
I shall forget you.
03.March.2005
Weaved at 10:23:38 am by onylu
