So I Had Another Drink

I don’t remember his name.
He probably didn’t have one,
but he always had a drink.
He cradled the glass between his fingers,
swirled himself into the amber liquid
before letting it calm
and taking a deliberate sip.

I knew it was deliberate.
He would lift the glass, and pause—
touching his lips to the rim.
His eyes would close
and I could feel the breath he took.
He never swallowed immediately.
It would sit in his mouth,
the corners of his eyes tired
and moist.

When I went to talk,
he didn’t speak a word.
Perhaps he couldn’t, or wouldn’t.
He would only point
with his eyes into the bottom
of the glass.


One response to “So I Had Another Drink”

  1. Really like this one! Great images, and a haunting mental picture. Good stuff!

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