Like a Punch

It’s when I see you through a crowd of people
like sparked glints on a stream
that I decide to throw my punch on the table
Fruity and refreshing, it’s so twisty on my tongue but
I have this hunch
(After eyeing your dress curl like a finger)
I’m gonna need both my hands to express
in a quietish conductor way
that I need to be with you
that I want to stick to you
that you make my delicious fruity punch
taste like tears down my tubes

So when I fix my courage the room it seems to deepen
and like an unexpected hug from far
you are drawn down the dark river
through tuxedo caverns and the crystal clinks
winking flash of hither souls on and off
until the lights and sound are cut
by an employed pair of mustached lips telling me
“I am sorry sir-
would you want the punch to take home?”