Bourbon

Honey golden hue in the glass.

The sweat of condensation on the outside,
Ice struggling to survive on the inside,
Reminding me by other means,
Of the heat of this summer day,
Now, finally, coming to close.

The taste was rich, and deep,
As if suggesting a forthcoming clarity,
With every sip.

That edgy, candy, gloss on the palate offered,
Something else…

The memory of your kiss.
Sweet, warm, profound…

Intoxicating to my lips…

Kindling for my heart…

An inferno for my body.

All, just from one sip.

 

© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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