literature

we have potential to be

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Literature Text

I never drank before but I knew
she was a shot of something powerful,
with long, prominent eye lashes poking holes
in the soles and openings of our skin.
We sat back like a pack of wolves and watched
as she dripped herself amongst
hard wood floors and inexpensive linen. I knew,
that maybe in another life
she had been a listlessly withered, worn and aged sycamore and perhaps I was the cocoon 'neath her leaf, waiting to uncover something beautiful
or something average.
Love is a strange drought,
her compassion showed me that I had never drank before and in this life I never would, but oh,
how I wanted to
.
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