you're burnt onto the bottom of everything
I know,
like a bone, or a bad
joke, I choke you out
whole, of course and
wipe the blood from my mouth
pick you out of my teeth and stare
emotionless at the black mess
at the bottom of the pan, take a drink
from the bottle in my hand only to discover
your spirits burning
the back of my throat, fermented
years ago and just now opened
and it's too late
you've already intoxicated me
again, I can feel the world
slowly falling away;
fork falls to table
glass falls to floor
in a crash splatter tinkle carpet stain
and the rest of you spreads
and takes root
impossible to remove
as my poisoned frame lands
on the rug we bought together
last spring.