Tip the bottle

Feel the clear liquid flow

Burning path settles into heat

Throughout your stomach

Friends jostling, they want to share

In the drizzle of English winter rain and

You gulp, spin ten times, and gulp again

Hand it over as

You feel it spread

Numbing senses, slowing reactions

I'd like to say I do it to escape, but really

I just like the intoxicated rush at

The bottom of the bottle