I twist my head slowly
trying to tame
the kamikaze tumbler
of my synapses in hyper drive
Your touch 100% proof
I never had a chance
This round is yours
Still stubborn as a mule
You struggle against the bonds
part shaken by how well
I’ve tied one on
But mostly stirred
And you know I know it
This round mine
As I curl out and then straight up
You straddle my chair neat
I drown my sorrows dirty
hammered against the heat
and wet your whistle with firewater
This last call ours
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De (aka WhimsyGizmo), invites us to mix our muses up a bit by throwing some pub and drinking terms in the blender. But to use the words in ways that have nothing to do with the bar scene, alcohol, or drinking. I think you can guess where I went with this.
Raivenne-lations 
This works really well. I’m seeing a smoky seduction.
A scene played out many a night ….very well written.
It was an even match, how nice! You had that uncanny talent to think of this twist! Great!
Hank
I love “your touch 100 proof,” especially.
Very clever, and you’ve slipped those phrases in seamlessly.
Ah, so immensely clever!
Lovely and clever round of verse.
Smoking hot!!❤️
Fantastic!