Plausible Deniability

I’m in bed. Spinning head. Mine.
Where’s my phone?         There it is.
I taste the tequila in my mouth.
Or is that the vodka?
They all taste the same the morning after.
How did I get back?
I can only remember in fragments
Like sometimes in
A dream where nothing
Makes sense.
That song from Oasis —
Where were you while we were getting high?
I was dancing with a stranger.
It was cold outside.
My feet moving on autopilot.
What happened between those gaps?
I hope I didn’t do anything bad.
I check my phone for answers.
My world’s still spinning around, I don’t know why.