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kaitiePoems
This glass with a stem, filled with brassy liquid, sloshing It's sweating and dripping down the stem I imagine a summer day--opposed to a late fall evening Where this sweating would be more appropriate. I lift the glass after wiping away the condensation and tip it elegantly to my lips. I imagine the glass slipping from my hands and shattering on the floor... I cringe. The wine is sweet and feels like a headache, It warms my throat and stomach. I look at it in the light and drink again, finishing it. I will drink five more glasses then run home downhill. I will wake with aches and bruises and a ****** lip. I will cry for the mistakes i have made, although i had a blast making them. But right now i am enjoying the second glass, and the shape of it. I can feel a pimple on my chin, and then i can feel the warmth and rush of DRUNK I stand up after glass 3 and fall into the bathroom door. I crash on the toilet and laugh at the cold porcelain. I fall after glass 4 and knock over a chair. I pick it up quickly and ask for glass number 5. I don't remember drink number 6, but the pains in my body say it was not worth remembering.
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Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 6:11 PM UTC
Wine will whisk you wayward
This glass with a stem, filled with brassy liquid, sloshing It's sweating and dripping down the stem I imagine a summer day--opposed to a late fall evening Where this sweating would be more appropriate. I lift the glass after wiping away the condensation and tip it elegantly to my lips. I imagine the glass slipping from my hands and shattering on the floor... I cringe. The wine is sweet and feels like a headache, It warms my throat and stomach. I look at it in the light and drink again, finishing it. I will drink five more glasses then run home downhill. I will wake with aches and bruises and a ****** lip. I will cry for the mistakes i have made, although i had a blast making them. But right now i am enjoying the second glass, and the shape of it. I can feel a pimple on my chin, and then i can feel the warmth and rush of DRUNK I stand up after glass 3 and fall into the bathroom door. I crash on the toilet and laugh at the cold porcelain. I fall after glass 4 and knock over a chair. I pick it up quickly and ask for glass number 5. I don't remember drink number 6, but the pains in my body say it was not worth remembering.
kaitie
Written by
kaitie
American
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 6:11 PM UTC
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