problem drinker. 

and there it sits, 

that half empty bottle,

and it wasn’t meant for a special

occasion, like a baptism or funeral or in between,

but it was meant to be. 

And She rolls around in your mind, 

though you can’t say her name,

for familial reasons

(thanks D [and if you say you know this, you reveal a lot]), 

so you just sip quietly

and think of how not bad it is,

and that makes a lot of difference,

to compare and contrast

like fifth grade math. 

It is better,

and that’s what you asked for,

when you went back to praying

for any kind of sign. 

Maybe the sign was the kind of dog your ex wanted,

the one you wanted everything with,

and the one you love agreed

but had addendums

that were actual improvements

so you stay

every day

and the routine is more like a massage 

and the rules are lore and legend at this point

so you keep believing

in it 

every day

one day 

at a time. 


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