Buying a bottle was an adventure and she was always my plus one.
We plucked cork after cork, off the bottles, never thinking back.
Every bottle had a story and the corks we collected were the summaries.
Every cork was a memory, stored in a cage never to be revisited but always to be cherished.
Never to be forgotten, till the night came where she'd never again be my plus one.
Now I sit here with my glass empty, looking at a cage full of memories.
I can't start a new adventure alone nor can I keep this glass empty for long.