My mind is ninety percent graveyard ten thousand closed eyes

Do you remember 
when we used to
get drunk like
we drink old 
idioms to think
down an original
abyss sightline
resistant darkness
forgetting over
steeped pleas touch 
hands burble happy 
creek mercury only
poison later temporal 
toxic grudge only
mistaken memorial 
on a field of broken 
finally laughing 
tombstones etched 
with faces not dates