you are my alibi

a bottle of moscato di asti
mixed with three parts serotonin
his words tightly spun together, and tied into a noose
a cup of false pretenses seen through rose colored glasses

the thump of your heart
the thud of his fist
the thump of your heart
the thud of his fist

tha-thump

tha-thump

tha-thump

the stickiness of dried asti on skin

tha-thump
tha-thump

you see it coming

and you step up on your soapbox
and jump


thud...