Bottle for two? Or just blue.
Should I finish this bottle
Or save it for you…
Even though I know that you’ll never come
To claim it.
Should I shout down the hall
Until I grow hoarse
Calling your sorry common name
For at least 10 minutes
Or twenty,
And perhaps I should be so lucky that
the solid oak door to
Your tiny one bedroom eases
And a tiny whisper of your hairline falls
Into view.
Eh, maybe I’m just wasting my time
And falling even further into my own
Confirmation that this bottle was never
Meant to be finished by both of us
But rather, the only gulps to be taken
From this blasted bottle
Are from mine own tired, and burnt lips.
© Ms. Rei Thompson, 2008.
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