Shallow

i am an empty bottle
but you have made me a drunk
falling over my own words
while smashing to the ground

parodies of love stories on television
if i give you eighteen kisses can i have them back,
later, when you’ve used them all up?

take me out dancing, take me to the sky,
there’s only so much sobriety i can stand
could you please fucking learn how to fly?

if this is a dance it’s a stupid one,
you and your lame left foot,
me and my inability to stay away from those
god-damn,
swaying,
gorgeous,
hips.

so take me down from the highest shelf,
dust me off, whisper a prayer,
and knock it back,
just like any other night.