You tell me that if I loved you, I would drink from the cocktail that I myself bought for you.
I would down it in one go if that would prove how much I adore you.
You place the cold glass in between my palms, my fingers numbing a little.
I take a sip, and the alcohol collides with my tastebuds like an iceberg but warms me on its way down my throat and into my stomach.
I am confused if it really is the delicious concontion, or if it is how you make me feel warmth, so radiant, that it engulfs me from the inside out.
I wipe the corner of my mouth with my wrist.
We smile at each other, and I wonder if you could tell by the way I look at you, that when I swallowed such poison you told me to take, all my mind could fathom was "because I love you."
But I am not that selfish.
I hand to you the rest, knowing that you have yet a thirst that neither I, nor this cocktail, may be able to quench.
Nov 9, 2019
Nov 9, 2019 at 5:42 PM UTC
You tell me that if I loved you, I would drink from the cocktail that I myself bought for you.
I would down it in one go if that would prove how much I adore you.
You place the cold glass in between my palms, my fingers numbing a little.
I take a sip, and the alcohol collides with my tastebuds like an iceberg but warms me on its way down my throat and into my stomach.
I am confused if it really is the delicious concontion, or if it is how you make me feel warmth, so radiant, that it engulfs me from the inside out.
I wipe the corner of my mouth with my wrist.
We smile at each other, and I wonder if you could tell by the way I look at you, that when I swallowed such poison you told me to take, all my mind could fathom was "because I love you."
But I am not that selfish.
I hand to you the rest, knowing that you have yet a thirst that neither I, nor this cocktail, may be able to quench.
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