SandScript 2020

Bottom of the Bottle
Christopher Valenzuela
You put your hands around my body. Keep me close. The same way the men in
those novels your mom used to read keep their lovers. You put your lips to my neck
drink me.
You let me warm your body, fill in all the spaces you didn’t know were left
empty and you won’t ever know that they’re empty
not if I’m right here to fill them up.
POETRY
I promise to never let the world hurt you.
I promise to keep you here with me. I promise
you’re beautiful. I promise to never flood you
like the monsoons in summertime. I promise
all sorts of things, intoxicated in your touch.
And we dance and sing and play and laugh and time
is anything but linear
when I’m here with you.
And this is euphoria. This
is what the poets and the storytellers have all been chasing. And
you found it, bottled up here with me.
You put your hands around my body. Keep me close. The same way the men in
those novels your mom used to read keep their lovers. You lose track of all your days they
seem to blur into one.
You think
I’m to blame and so you say that we’re done.
You make excuses for why I’m no longer around, but you can’t seem to think
about anything else. And all your friends can do is talk about the nights when we
flooded their feed. And I am needy,
so I show up to all the
places they invite me, knowing damn well that you’ll be there
and hoping you
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