The Nightman

I was always our bartender.

You’d sit at the counter,

Take the ice cubes from my shaker,

Asking what I was making,

Before I even knew myself.

I’d tell you to trust me.

You always did.

A splash of this.

A spritz of that.

A twist of orange.

Smoke in the glass.

Stir.

Never shake.

I liked getting drunk with you.

Not the liquor.

The place between the first sip and the last laugh.

That time when stress melted into the chair.

We’d get smashed.

Then we’d stumble home together.

Holding onto each other.

Taking breaks to gaze at each other.

Smile.

Laugh.

Kiss.

I love you.

I love you too.

You were the feather to my sin.

After you left.

I stayed behind.

The pours got longer.

The nights got quieter.

The bottles emptied faster.

I thought drinking would help me forget.

Instead,

it taught me

How many different ways

I could remember.

Every drink

Still tastes

Like the one I poured for you.

Every smoked glass,

Still carries your silhouette.

I knew exactly

how much we could drink,

Without losing each other.

I may never learn

How much I should drink,

To lose you.

3:17AM my mind keeps spinning.