bottled

Here, swilled In my bottle
I sit, pouring smoke down my throat
Rimmed deep in the seat
You left me in,
My genie chapped lips
And yellow toothed grin
Are good company these days

But the world still rattles
When

You

Sway
Back into view
Your face fresher, floating
In a blue dress that I should have bought you
Careless on the cobbles,
Hair untied, trailing bubbles
Of a million forgotten troubles
That weave across the breeze
Behind you.

Slugged hard. I feel my weight shift
And I’ll wrestle later with the shards of my character
While I pick them off the floor
But in these brief seconds as I fall
I snatch that image of you,
Bottle it, a private Shiraz
To sip through the dark times
Within a world of of shattered glass.