We joined on Drunken Stupor;

Interruptions blurring lines between thought and slurred speech.

She was a voluptuous specimen of study,

Who cultivated on my mind as my glass emptied.

Broken speech like multiplying cells formed a story, a woman.


And she was a beautiful creature of habit;

To offer habitat, a hostel for hostile souls wandering a city of charms,

Nurturing innate in her nature.

She read like an epic, missing the most crucial pages.

Who was she?

And she was a majestic animal with whisper quiet blue eyes

Or was that the liquor?

I pray to my gods that she doesn't smell my fear,

A familiar fear that I douse with tequila and Newports.

She used common tools with ease that formed intelliect;

With a dexterity of a master craftsman

She weaved crude humor, philosophy, and air of confidence

(A lack there of so well disguised)

Like the great seamstress.

Could she do with my frayed ends?

I'm almost too drunk.

And she was the woman of dreams.

Was I still conscious?

This was not the time to lose my facade of sanity.

Hours had slipped by like  they were trying to steal her from me.

Not this time.

I walked her to her car, a Taurus from '03,

A curiousity considering her age.

Then, because I'll be damned before I can find the words,

I choked,

I felt a familiar hate,

And surprisingly,

(I'm pretty positive the pavement was calling my name)

Several numbers flew from perfect lips.

And she was the great huntress, I feared.

And she was the merciless conqueror I loved.

And she was the benevolent goddess, I worshipped.

And I still care for her temple.