Alcohol

Without it
light is harsh
and blindingly real.

You feel
you’ve one skin less,
shed like a snake.

Jittery
as a jumping bug,
you make

words leap
in your throat —
it’s easy!

You’re not remote
but calm now,
rational, unfogged,

your thoughts
more linear
than labyrinthine,

your black dog
chained and kennelled
but still in the backyard.

It’s hard
to give up everything.
Cigarette smoke

mediates your day
which dazzles
blue on blue

till you
retreat inside
for tea and promises

and lies. Your eyes
look at me sideways
but so clearly.