The Whiskey Monologues

A CAJILLION AND FOUR, OR, AN ARGUMENT ENTITLED ‘JAMAICA IS THE LUCKY ONE’

So I’ve been drunk for seven and a half hours,
and I am certainly thinking about, oh,
a cajillion and four things but definitely not you.
You.
You and the way you always look best with your hands on my face and my lips on your sweet spot
ever since I first spotted
you or you spotted
me,
that time the sunlight perhaps
just happened
to hit my eyes just right
and we knew that I would always be right
when we argue in bed,
the kind of arguing with smiles and
the kind of bed with quilts made from sleep deprivation
in bedrooms in the tops
of trees and you’re on top
of me and I’m

still sitting here thinking of a cajillion and four things that we could do together,
do whenever,
do with you,
to you,
for you,
on top of you,
next
to you,
a0nd the next
time you step foot in this town you’ll walk
straight into my kitchen door,
straight into my daydream,
straight into my arms,
and we’ll pretend like time is not so much of a soccer mom,
and money is not so much of a hermit,
and affection is not so much of a god damned imposition and
every once in a while I’ll catch a glance from you
that tells me you’ve been thinking of a cajillion and four things,
all of which sound better with my name in them,
even when it’s spelled wrong
and for the next seven months,
we’ve got all the time in the world
and I’m still drinking
meanwhile,
I’m sure you’re still drinking
and at the bottom of this glass I keep finding fireflies that tell me
I’m making self-destructive decisions,
so you’re one decision I shouldn’t make
but I’ll sit here,
drunk thinking about a cajillion and four things
all of them different shades of blue,
all of them houses in New Mexico,
all of them not half as delicious as
the drink in my hand,
you,
or the cajillion and four ways there are to say I
care about you,
I want you,
I am

thinking about you.

Submitted by Jessye Mabel.