Tequila

blind drunk
but pure gold
talking syrups
they let the drippy
sappy sad and happy
words spill
right out of your pretty mouth
and that's all he's thinking
pretty mouth
the words themselves
nothing
ramblings of the inner spaces
let loose
under the gate of the sleeping
inhibitor
the left brain has left the builidng
'nother round he says
and around she goes