Glass Bottle Poem by Not Long Left

where do you go,
once i have finished with you,
where do you go,
once i have drained your insides.
empty and of no use to me,
unless no ashtray is to hand,
then you'll do,
i can then watch the soaked up smoke,
fade as it travels up your neck.
Have we or could we cross paths again,
maybe i have looked through you,
in a hotel in spain.
or could i have looked into your face,
and seen mine,
did i once slide you
across my skin,
staining you with my blackened blood.
How many human hands have touched you,
how many faces have you cut,
thrust in anger.
But for now i hold your,
cold slender body,
which is begging to be drawn forth
to my lips.
and yes there have been blips,
between us,
often ending up with you scattered all over the floor,
yet you always return,
looking the same as before,
where do you go,
i would rather not know,
just always, always come back.