Last Call
Languid
as a melting crayon
that colors
my judgement,
my words
ooze
Lombardy-like
as I pub-crawl
back again
to pick up
my empty glass,
and spit
my secrets in.
Languid
as a melting crayon
that colors
my judgement,
my words
ooze
Lombardy-like
as I pub-crawl
back again
to pick up
my empty glass,
and spit
my secrets in.