and the bottle makes two

by Steven J. Serafiani

drunk again,
the winds are blowin’ just outside,
can hear the leaves rustle,
on the litter ground,
scrapin’ pavement
black chalk nightingale through the mesh,
the embers glowing,
smoke billowin’ across the illumination,
mind races like indy,
lonely longing longevity,
brevity it’s not,
fantasies about women I don’t even know,
I could love you,
could you love me?