Every mood was set
or beer- it didn't matter.
You tasted better, when paired with
warmth of spirit
and me - I spoke better when sipping brandy or the like.
And those warm, summer porch nights, remember? Where we
talked away the night, impressed by our own drunken
depth of insight, a tightly woven mashup of flavors, you and I, creating essence as the midnight hour crept ever closer,
The flavors of your words, round and smooth, linger like sugar rocks dropped, popping on my tongue. We said then that we would no doubt become better with a little time. How is it
that we knew, silly and young as we were.
I haven't had a drink in years but I can still taste the evening, wet
with rain and desire,
smell the plum mix of cheap elderberry, hear the craving inducing call.
Now, I want to taste you sober, go back, hear you once again, know though different, it's still the same.
Prompt from: https://twitter.com/EDayPoems