blur the edge

(original post: september 20, 2007)

ust a drop,
blood red dew
on my wrist,
from the lip
of the bottle
to the tip
of my middle finger,
i watched it fall
to it's demise,
splash upon
my softened bones...
what my tongue
didn't pick up
my pores absorped,
reeling with ferment
and aching sobriety...
my blood has forgotten
this drug, this
fire-fruit
that enables me
to forget,
that softens the blow
and blurs this golden
glow so these hard edges
don't cut as deep
until morning, until
i have to crave
you again.
i crave you again.
but it's too early
to drink.

k.