Are We Locked In?

put down the bottle
and help me find my arms
because in all these warm layers
of tricks and secrets
they could be anywhere
somewhere in the folds
maybe we'll find a memory
you hoped never to see again
and you lift that bottle again
high and eager
trying to taste the bottom
the hot burn of bourbon
sets a flame under your tongue
so you can burn down
anything I come up with
and we stand here in the dark
unaware
that if we'd just screw the damned light bulbs in
we wouldn't keep falling down stairs