Ficly

Just

I know
that the devil
dishevels your tongue
and dwells in the drink
or so they tell me.
But the devil must be both
devil and god
because you haven’t heard
the words he slips into
my tequila like so much rohypnol
a thief to steal into my mouth
and pluck my brain from its moorings.
Name me Flunitrazepam
the damned and the slam-
it-down-your-throat
a choking,
but This Once won’t be the time
This Once won’t hurt much more
This Once is a velveteen lover
This Once is a truth-teller
I can’t imagine This Once lying to me.
So, just and honest This Once
shatter a smatter of glass
down my gullet
a shot from a gun
surely too small to kill me.

It doesn’t even use gunpowder, after all.

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