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.