Intoxicated

I thought I got to know you —
I never really did.

Just two drunks, life askew,
whose daylight psyches hid,
but understood each other then —
a clank of glass and promises,
a moonless night kept dark.

How different we now seem
in dawn’s encroaching sparks,
a love consigned to dreams,
a friend to sober heartaches.

Notes:
An oldie from 2011. As the saying goes, I probably love the idea of you more than you. But to lose the idea of you is to lose you all the same…

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