Ask me what I believe in, and I will say to you - wine. Whisky. Gin.
Frown, and I will compose a poem in honor of your disdain.
And I will laugh. And drink. And keep you at bay.
I, whose very existence disagrees with your very existence,
will stand at the edge of the room and tear into your every word,
will turn your grand ideas into minute jokes
and will not go away.
If I were to allow you to come so near to me
as to peer into my eyes,
if my eyes were clear and free of the fog of my drunkenness,
you would find the pinpricks in the shape of L's
a sky full of them, gleaming like stars through the fog.
And all the lies I have ever spat from the back of the room
will be read by you as from a book.
You will ask me what I believe in, and I will say to you - wine,
and you will read - you.
And you will know that I intend to stay at your side
my existence in disagreement with yours
until the very end of our days.
