Bitches Gonna Love This Verse

[Soulstice]

In that instant..
I'm a story stained in whiskey
Consistently visceral
In between whispers, she can feel it in her ribs that she misses me
The shimmering absinthe is missing - from her derelict decanter
She's a modern metaphysical romantic - with terroristic candor
& she's terrible with answers she found nestled in some stanzas
In some dirty book on a rainy day in Brooklyn, Maine
or Long Island, New York - it's all the same
Any place; my face is still lingering behind her
The fire's fizzling inside her. Infinity's expired
I'm a long-forgotten string of words -
Original, syntactic
She said she'd bring them to the casket
Imagine her if she had heard that misery begat them
I'm a list that's shrinking fast or I'm
A ship in a bottle of gin
She's haunted within by something she forgot to forgive
But constantly caught up with his dossier of hymns
She's growing catatonic - I'm a story racing to a close
I'm the fairly murky reason that she's taking off her clothes
And it isn't taking place alone - I'm last call at half past
I'm one for the road - Two for "God Damn, that fat ass.."
She cuddles alone - in the morning, she's a bluebird
Singing freely - and she doesn't truly thinks she needs me
She's beautiful and seemly - her mind faces no intruders
Till the evening
When she starts shooting Jimmy quickly
and
I'm a story stained in whiskey