7/30 Happy Hour

that time i told you i loved you
i meant it from the bottom of my glass
ice rattling like the bones wind chiming in your closet
you mistook me for salvation
for redemption, co-conspirator
for get away car

when we left our mess all over the floor
and on the walls the curtains rustled
told the neighbors there was problem
there were words thrown out with the baby and the bath water
they turned their heads as i turned away
there is a cost to living one foot in and out of closets

that time i told you i'd come by later
not to stay but to watch the sunrise between thighs
tiptoe through your tulips
never ever did forever seep through my pores
never did i tell you it was ok for you to connect
in the way that you did

we were trip wire waiting for explosion
messy with expectation
you expecting me to skeleton key myself invisible
me expecting you to be concrete
not some abstract version of affection
a panoramic view of fuckery

that time i told you i loved you
i meant it from the bottom of my glass