Paloma

There is a bitterness

with every bite, as the juice trickles down your chin. 

And you grin 

within 

the duality

as tequila cools your mouth 

but warms your skin. 

Pain is fleeting, 

pain’s not sin

but pleasure is her vendable twin. 

There is a sweetness

in the squeeze, as it gets roughly stirred,

it spins. 

I spin. 

If my mind became clear

I’d tell you then

I’m really only used to gin.