Mountain

Ten rings on my

Pale fingers

Like bourbon tainted 

rivers that call me 

kin

like porcelain white

or plantain yellow

teeth cracked against

the first of all exceptions to humanity

amethyst cavity in torn flesh, or wicked

Drink-rot

Always, all the time, old friend

you are killing yourself.

god, oh god

he spits on you

and his breath freezes before it strikes your 

ugly face.

And you step past him

into a frigid world of opportunity

You can look down from here. 

Even if you would rather drink yourself to death

you can't, because

you need to forgive that cruel master

cruel, wintry kindness

So please

tell me that

man and woman are kind

and no one else is.