Whisky Flames

Cold whisky in hand
My fingertips are aching
The ice cubes slowly melting
The clink against the short ribbed rock glass
Cystal seems to keep everything cool
Indian style crosslegged staring into the fire pit that I keep feeding with branches from the backyard
Keep It from smoking
It burns my eyes
What’s burning more is the image of you
Feed the fire
Keep it aflame
Burning in my brain
Eyes fixed on the orange and yellow flames
I switch to wine and the image
of you changes
My face close to the flame stays toasty
My lips still stay cold
The wine leaking through and coating my palate with a woody flavored red purple stain
on my teeth
It’s just me and the glass in my hand
And the flame with the image of you smoking in the distance
Whisping through the air
Just an arms reach away as the wind carries you away

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