It’s hard to escape the urge to dive to the bottom of night

To seek a bottle to strangle
until something like life emerges.
A dark wet mass, slippery and crying,
squirming on the table before me.
It’s clumsy movements would cause me to laugh
till my jaw bone fell out of joint.
I would grin ear to ear like the
long dead
who are finally privy to the lightness
of their being.
I would join them,
gravity would lose it’s grip.
I would float
up out of my skin,
peer down
at the macabre spectacle below,
but only for a moment.
The moment might last all night,
but before falling into the dark solitude of slumber,
the foreshadowing
of the unabating rising sun
would be seen in the pink sky.

I would awake
floating on my back
on the surface of morning,
a bottle in my hand empty
but for a scribbled note.
I would open it,
but would be disappointed to find
that the ink was all smudged
and the note was
illegible
but for the signature.

Catch me if you can,
Life.