Sucker Punch
for Coree O'Donnell and Micah "Buddy" Bright
Green grapes pressed to a fog, a crumb of salt,
my waking to the corkpop of your kiss,
"We loved each other so much we broke up."
I've never met a draft as strong as this.
A simmering not sweet enough to hide
the finish of a bite giftwrapped in lead,
all tucked in for the night and with no will
to let me let it slip my mind. Instead,
I hired it as my favorite seasoning,
the memory of passing in and out
from night to morning. Nothing fits so well
on you as drunkenness, goes down like doubt
of sobering up again.
Pass me that bowl
of stumbling on the best time to go cold.
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If you like this one, try out my thoughts on its writing process.
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This is the 41st draft.
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