the morning is tequila-sunrise orange but the dusk takes on the day straight no chaser spins light liquid gold into starlight into poems the dusk is a writer like me I take my mental illness dry maybe a little bit of my childhood for color I always say I love you too quickly shock the starlight into repression drown in liquor in depression in purgatory until the haze recedes and sobriety filters in slowly like light through blinds that weren’t shut until four in the morning
I like this.
It took a little effort to get past the early “tequila-sunrise” cliche.
After that, it’s incisive.
Especially “sobriety filters in slowly like
light through blinds that weren’t
shut until four in the morning”
That’s a rich image drawn in bold, spare, confident lines.