Vodka

There is such a thing

 

as too bold

 

too risky

 

too intense.

 

And it comes past midnight in a crowded room full of people that don’t know

 

And yet it feels like they’re all watching me, waiting for their suspicions to confirm.

 

Ironic, because what they should be watching are your eyes

 

so bold

 

so risky

 

so intense.

 

You stare me down as if to imprison me.

 

And it works. I am ashamed to say that it works. Because I wait for you.

 

Vodka does nothing for me,

 

but what it does for you gives me chills.

 

There is such a thing 

 

as too familiar

 

too easy

 

too sure

 

too much for me to ignore from across the room.

 

Vodka does nothing for me,

 

but what it does for you

 

reflects in the tension of my body as I drink you up like wild fire. 

Someday I will hate you. But today is not that day.

 

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