My Molotov

Iron rain falls on some planets

On yours rained whiskey and roaches

On mine, Kerosene and candle wax

Sometimes we’d go for moonlit dips in your lakes of malt liquor

Other times you’d say the moon was not home

And you had drank the alcoholic banks dry

Drunk as ever and thirsty still

I suggested you come by instead

To watch the valleys slick with fire fuel

You’d say you couldn’t stand the fumes

And they gave you headaches

And why bother Space for an empty glass in the darkness

You waited for rare rains to amuse your appetite

And In a drought of my own provocation I grew too eager

When the clouds finally seemed to swell

Raising my chin skyward to open my mouth,

I drank your rain in gulps and all i felt was drunk.

Oh but how numb was the honeyed lacing

And how rich

I’d go home to dark and sticky

And sip on oil spill puddles as I walked

Drunk as ever and so full

So elated

As I rolled down satin hills and danced up to their peaks

So elated as I erupted into too many small parts

Propelled into the only forever and shyly drifting in sight of one taunting blue moon

Parts of me hoped to fall to you

As the others came back to form a smaller me

I continued to drink what I could take

Now I, drunk but not enough

Continued to implode

It was too late in terms of conceptual time

And I’d lost all parts of me to a full blue moon