She was born to look at life through hour glasses
Knowing that things get better with time
Like fine wine
This sorrow is an acquired state.
Taught from an early age that the grapes of wrath are bitter from the vine and brew nothing but bottled up emotions corked by candle lit dinners
This message in a bottle leaves her wasted, but it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.
By mid afternoon her speech is stuttered and slurred as if she is speaking through a rising tide of white Riesling as the crimson of her pinot blood places rosé gently on her ivory cheeks.
She is best enjoyed in good company over stories of lovers passed.
Her taste compliments yours lips and the blue in your eyes so nicely
And she’s the reason why drunken words are sober thoughts
but tonight her drunken tails are sobering.
The blurring of my vision comes from the tear stained pillow cases used to store my midnight philosophizing as my own creations make my head spin.....
Or maybe I’ve had too much to drink after all but screw it
Tonight is made of broken hands because the seconds don’t seem to pass
And Mother Nature fermented the fruits of our labour and packed them in crystal ball bottles meant to be broken apart so we can watch it all spill out in front of us.
She lined up four glasses,
Poured a little into each one and sipped them with a tongue venom laced with arsenic eye contact
It was the first time I saw anything other than dawn crack under the pressure of starting over.
Especially since she’s the stained glass window that allows even the brightest find their color but you can only fall so many times before you finally break but she refused to shatter.
When the chip on her shoulder sent her stumbling she brushed it off and taught it how to stride.
When her mind would wonder she’d teach it how to glide and legend says she tamed the lions with her pride so it’s no wonder she survived the rising tide.
She is wading waste deep
Standing there
Vulnerable and shining like green glass in the sun as if she was on the edge of the atmosphere ready to jump.
When Thor raised his fist with her in his hand ready to cast her like a shooting star against the black pavement she found her voice
Hidden in the canyon of his life lines and she finally got the courage to look him in the eyes and scream, at the top of her lungs,
Do it...
Break me...
I dare you!
