The Fain Echoes of A Memory

A brief ode to the nights I'd spend out drinking

Back then when I used to drink

Back then, I say.

I was so young, I say. 

I was 22. I am now 24.

We'd pass around a cigarette like it was communion

Carcinogens in place of conversations.

Satiate my need to be everything and nothing all at once.

Tell me about your job.

Tell me about the ghosts of the people you once loved in a bar 

Then allow me to haunt you in the same way.

I have been sober for a few months now

But sometimes, 

I can see the faint apparatus of a sentence we once spoke

Everything and nothing 

Entrapped in the smoke we shared 

Like our own little haunted house.