my dirty little secret

is entwined in my mind
like your limbs around mine.

i want my parched lips to drink
from the well of your tears and that cold glass
of vodka and confusion,
follow the contours of your face that i know,
so well, well, well.

i want to know why you said, "go slow"
and why that burn is not
fading.

i want to know if i should say, "no"
because if i don't want to know
anything,

then i am nothing.

just another regret.