run out of places to hide
his bottle
of scotch.
she found it under the sink,
on the upper
shelf
of the hall closet,
behind the attic
door,
a chest of drawers
beneath
quilts and dresses
she no
longer wore.
so now,
he sat on a park
bench
as night fell, and drank
it empty
before the long
walk home,
yet, still wanting
more.
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