Punch Drunk

One more sip of you could kill me—

lay me out in my funeral finery,

kiss my cold lips goodbye.

 

I’ve been drunk half of my life—

moonshine of your lies,

spinning me,

apple mash in my throat.

 

Your liquor—

intoxicating,

loosening any inhibitions,

luring me to your hook.

 

I am helpless against you.

Let me drink in your essence—

until I die.

2016 copyright by Katie Pifer available at http://www.witchpetals.wordpress.com

drunk1

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