and today is fruit of 3 barren years; sobriety in a time of plenty

you can fit
a lot of yourself
in a bottle.

you can cram
almost all of
who you are
into a can.

the lip of
a bottle,
so round and
alluring.
so slick
against the purchase
of a pulling hand.

the rim of
a can,
it catches
the evening light
just right.
draws you
further in,
even as its edge
cuts you.

use caution
around bottles and
cans, around
swollen lips
and edges
that glint like
sharpened tooth.

it takes time
to drain yourself
from yourself.

when you are
ready, or
when you have
no other way,
upend yourself
and shake.
do not
crumple and
no do not
shatter, just
rock.
swirl.
shake.

freeing yourself
from the erotic
cling of lip,
the rasping catch
of your enclosure,
yes,
it may hurt.
it will not
destroy you.

you see that,
down
there? down
at the
bottom?
that is you,
that is what
your destruction
looks like.
and still, you
float. still,
pulled apart,
you are there.

upend yourself,
swirl and rock
and shake, and
now look,
back down
again, back
at the bottom?
where you
once sodden
and swollen
laughed about
your containment?

empty,
disappeared,
no longer held
under,
gone.

there’s so much
more to see
out here, isn’t
there?
welcome and
thank you, you
look beautiful.
even your
pain glows
like brand new
love.