September 1st.

The girl you met drank wine,  

and opined;

Thought endlessly of ways, as she sipped

To hear those uttered words, "Darling, you are mine."

​

The woman she became drinks whiskey,  

so sweetly; 

And smiles as it drips, from the tongue to the heart to the gut

Burning down, yelling out. "Darling, I know you miss me."