one the only

oh, drunk drunk denials. gives me
a full time drive to be in your low voice, wanting.
sitting against the contrary. on this couch.
acting like i'm one the only. i can hear about
whoever i want to; i can be next to somebody, purple
shirted, feeling like a friend shows how reflective we are.
whiskey, believe me. poison my strangeness.
disconnect and lurch across this with the viscera
to fake my foot asleep on. but that's just the way
whiskey works. the way i burr back, just to feel arms
around me. as soon as you come across the thought,
it almost makes it better to admit to anyone
how we have really sick ways of turning feelings to life.
that i think i might know. come clean
break and shot up, seems to me like it's procrastinated
needing. splintered like exhaust. braced to a heart
throbbing. use your slang to move me,
make your neighborhood something even
more solid, 50th and some street and i'm still
outside. i think we might be a little, molten military
against that that we cannot fathom.
i joined in like i knew you better than you did.
is there new information here? was it
acting if i learned later that i was right?