Captain Morgan

I thought I saw you in the sepia scenes 
of a bottle last night.
Past those hazy memories 
of blacked out nightfall,
my golden tears –

I thought I heard you say you were
brewing the storm of an era. 
The clouds rolled in, thereafter,
in under an hour span,
with winds slurring in anguish. 

All hands on deck –
by god, you rocked me to my core. 
I lost my heel on the floorboard, 
I think
and I,
dropped my composure into the sea.  

Come morning, 
you’ll be left sailing upon waves of gold,
and I’ll
have only left. 

BIATA

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