Whiskey Smooth

Whiskey Smooth (Revised)

Remember when we took that walk
way back in June, under the streetlights
where I leaned in and gave you that first kiss?
You said it happened so naturally, a divine sign,
A tingle creeping up your spine so smooth,
like the slow burn of your first shot of whiskey.

We were on our way to The Whiskey
Bar, where the pool sharks were smooth
in swimming for money under the table lights
as they chewed up carom, bank, and kiss
shots with brutal efficiency. It was a short walk
down the street under a green and gold trim sign.

When we got there, you turned and sign
-ed to me, because I gave you that kiss,
that you weren’t ready to go in. It was your whiskey
brown eyes that made me continue down the walk
with you to the end of the street and past the lights.
You knew where you wanted to go and glided there so smooth.

With your hand I guided you down the smooth
rock trail to the lake side where I first drank whiskey
stolen from home. I loved the way you walk
-ed up to me, a siren rising out of water under the moonlight.
I don’t think you needed it, but I gave you a sign
when I brought our hips in close, so they almost kissed.

I just loved it, the way you kiss
as my fingers, with a sculptor’s grace, walk
-ed up and down your thighs. I loved to sign
to you--how it was, touching your smooth
skin, fine curves, soft hands, and whiskey
colored hair, so delicate and light.

After that night, away from the blue moonlight
where we found each other. I saw in me, a sign
of change that came on as anything but smooth.
I used to tell myself that it must have been the whiskey.
But now I think, now I know that when I kiss
you, that I loved you. Not just the way you walk.

So the next time we walk by The Whiskey Bar,
Remember that place under the street signs and lights
where everything so smooth came from a first kiss.