and,
you know what they say about advice,
it's like ice,
dry-humping,
my whiskey,
this girl gets weak,
in the knees,
melting into your glass,
until,
the water-works of this rainy city,
distill the flavor,
of my sharp restless,
tongue,
but I'll toss this out there,
with a laugh,
yeah, with a laugh,
sunshine,
dripping from the last,
of those rain-strained dregs,
of yours,
just pour me another,
and this time,
babe-
hold the ice.
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