Scab
In a melee of drinks on the menu
On the occasion of our Fourth Anniversary,
Confused, with the
Stir assonance
Prudence
The brown in each drink
The hyena laugh each did bring;
I second his order.
He stole a moment and kissed my forelock
Reached for the ear
He knows my weakness
But he only breathed, Drink to us, dear.
Now this is what drinking does,
I ride on a neap tide.
Nigh, the difference between high and low
And I put up an impressive show.
So as I gathered all my starving words
To talk, complain, taint, rebound,
Either one often ended up slurring
About how it sucks to be love abound.
So wasted, we shambled to the car
He pulled over soon.
I said, are we sleeping tonight as well?
He looked at my amputated legs
Looked into my hungry eyes
Looked upon my broken pride
Kissed me, smiled, into tears, he gushed,
No dearest, tonight, let’s be all about lust.
© Shreya Mahajan., all rights reserved.
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