Viper of Intemperance
With a simultaneous gasp for air,
a trembling hand lifts the bottle.
Throat-burning venom snakes
its way across the tongue as
hot liquid arrows slither
toward their target;
a petrified pit waiting
to receive the coveted sting.
White-fanged memories
lie coiled, and ready to strike
until doused repeatedly
with liberal doses
of fiery forgetfulness.
You rattle around
in my consciousness.
Whiskey takes you
out of my mind.
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