“The words of an impaired poet…”
Out of the darkness. The flashes light up the sky. The silence of the night is interrupted by the speed of fast cars and…heels. The light taps of stilettos hitting the pavement from the flashy girls who pray the night to last forever. And yet in this moment I hear neither. I hear nothing. But I feel the bass of the Dj playing this song for the 100th time.
And through the flashes of the club lights you see me….and her. She’s beautiful. Miss pink and lovely. My lips constantly touching hers . Holding her with a firm grip. Promising to never let go.
Even when I stand to dance she joins, to compliment the beats and aid in this lonely moment.
Because she is a bottle. And her company never fails to entertain. Amplifying the flashes of the night. Making this moment last forever.
I thank her for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with… hopes and dreams. Later I will remember how I drank her. And it seems while under her bind the lights are brighter, and I am delighted by her company…until the morning.
I am a captive of her taste, yet desolate as space and drinking her to the base. Shackled still and fighting with all might, yet feeling and feigning a drinks delight. Enlightened by the sights, and enchanted by the flashes of the night.
-Moises Seraphin
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