“Destruction is also creation.” -Marcel Duchamp

i didn’t like
gin      until
i tasted      it
on your       lips
when i          kissed    you after
everything was         fucked    (i tried to
forget      your first name and      his first name
and his        warm body           around          mine
when we fell         asleep          accidentally) and
i thought     that if i was going to     become an
alcoholic             then this was           one hell of
a way to      start     so i took four shots inarow
and the room                                         shimmered
(blue bombay)sapphire and     your face     was
blurry and                          exactly what i needed
on that stained                        leather couch (the
music was tooloud and       you were probably
tooclose and            he was asleep            about
ten miles down the road                    oblivious)
i loved him       but        i also loved music and
your fingernails     on my back and      the way
your hair smelled like      mint       tinged with
cigarette smoke and sweat            so when you
started to slide                 the strap of my dress
down i (should’ve said                     no but  you
were dripping           with delicious liquor and
desire        and he was not there     and he was
never as delicious as you)        leaned into you
and       let your lips brand        my translucent
skin with               the scriptures of inebriation

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