Tequila Courage

Tequila Courage

This was not the plan.
This was not the intention.
It started with one drink,
before it led to seven.

The sweet liquid gold tequila courage
pulsed through every vein
electrified my drunken blood
drenched my thirst for adventure.

Through the scattered darkness
the strobe lights, the throng of swaying bodies
raising their red solo cups
to the partying anthems of sex, drugs, and rebellion,
I saw her-
That red-lipped, tattooed, raven-haired beauty
I desired.
Wild and reckless, unchained of inhibitions
intoxicating in every way.

Eyes fleeting. Eyes meeting. Eyes locking.
Hands touching. Bodies dancing. Faces brushing.
Such a beautiful and passionate inebriation
that sweet liquid gold tequila courage.

With fingers intertwined, we stumbled
and crashed on a bed down the hall.
Lips touching. Clothes slipping. Hearts racing.
She tasted of Jack Daniels and danger.
No regrets. No turning back.

It was impulse. Instinct. Pleading. Longing. Release.
A poetry of intimately tangled affections.
The heat of skin, fists clenched with hair
I choose you.




Even through the alcoholic haze
I could feel myself falling for her
that red-lipped, tattooed, raven-haired beauty,
eyes smoldering with mystery and intrigue.

This was not the plan.
This was not the intention.
It started with one drink,
before it led to seven.