We used to fight sometimes late at night
after too many drinks too many cigarettes too many insults thrown back and forth
First we’d praise each other up then run each other down to the lowest notch
There were good times too But after a while they dried up The way some things do.
Couple last screams And I would hear some clanking in my kitchen Didn’t pay too much attention
She’d go out with her big purse “Should you be driving?” “Screw you”
I would go to the window Yell down at her on the street “Get outta here you bottle bandit!”
I didn’t want her to go Not really She may have been a booze thief But she had a sort of magic The way some people do.
I bumped into her years later In a liquor store same one we used to go to
I wondered if she remembered all the fun But the look on her face underneath the smile showed the pain. The way some faces do.