Tallahassee

Tallahassee

When the hands of the clock

are flipping you off,

its face a twisted smile,

and escape to the bottle

has drowned the words

that once intoxicated you.

When lust is merely a metaphor,

love a long distance call

and your voice has turned

to autumn leaves

that crackle under foot.

That is when the night

becomes only darkness

and the call of that bottle

fills the spaces in between

the sunlight.

SMG