
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.