Ply

I’ve been drowning my sorrows in a whiskey bottle As if I’m on salary to do so My eyes don’t recognize my body, Two cyanide sticks to clear the route to my thoughts It’s like the ground and the sky meet when I think of her, I was on a two day alcohol crusade before this day You’re the first and last thing I thought about before my friends took me to bed Consumed by the tequila and ram I’m a heavy drinker I love to write poems and love to love I’m obsessed with the idea of you under my sheets As we ply body to body I wish to make a smaller version of you And you two can share my heart. Reside in the condo of my thoughts, For as long as I live.