Just Me, This Bourbon…And You

It’s just a glass,

“Double Old Fashioned”…

I think.

But hidden somewhere
Between those mostly melted
Ice cubes,

Bathed in what is now
Watered-down bourbon,

My reality

Is defined.

Loneliness,

And a hunger,
For something real…

Something to touch…

Something to love…

Now that you’ve left.

Isn’t it strange,
And coincidental…

That the complex sweetness,
And burn,
Of the bourbon…

So perfectly define,
My relationship,
With you.

Helping,
Hurting…

Soothing,
Searing…

Always seeming to leave me,
Wanting,
And needing,
More.

If not more of you,

If you will not have me…

Then maybe more of the surrogate
Brown water…
My elixir.

We are unquestionably…
On the rocks,

Just me,

This bourbon…

And you.

 

 

 

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

2 thoughts on “Just Me, This Bourbon…And You

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