matamoras

There was one speck of time yesterday
when everything was startling.
The haze from the pills had worn off. (I'm sure of it, yes I'm damn sure of it.)
It was clarity.
I had it
and you were not there.
All the things I supposed to say were in my head
like a script memorized,
but you were not there.
And so last night was fogged over with
pointed shoes in sub-zero windchills,
with golden shrugs covering tattooed shoulders,
with bared teeth and
glasses clinking to 2006
with people I never wanted in my life,
in a life I never wanted,

but as they say, here I am and there you are
and so I'm afraid that's how this plays out for now.
I'll drink to other's good fortune and health and
silently slip pills under my own tongue just to make it
through the night again.