backseat driving under the influence

whiskey sleeping in her brown paper nightgown 
cheap glass undergarments tucked into gut pocket 

my love

my mattress a plot of dead cigarettes. every 
conversation complemented by exhaust 

my love 

too high to remember you tried to ground me
only the lighter.s twitch      the grind into me. 

my love 

i.m sorry for being such an unstable barstool 
such an empty cliché. a phantom shoulder begging 
you to lean into me on your drunk walks home
only to kiss dirt. 

but you should have known.
remember you found my grey matter in the gutter.
remember i complimented your ass before we ever met.
how i was looking for a pulse in anything with a dick. 
how i would crash my carbon into any lonely element. 

it is a miracle you found me 
in the wreckage and that you stuck 
around through all the paperwork. 

my love

this road.s been paved in guardrails 
since before you claimed my highway
and breathalyzers never tell the truth

my love

i hope these past ten months 
haven.t strained your neck too much
as you crane it passing my accident

—SAM SAX