a Poem by Raquel Swann

You’re a flower,

a delicate floral scent,

you’re intoxicating,

an aged wine never opened,

I wish to uncork you,

drink from the fruit

until I get my fill.

They fall over for you,

unable to stand,

wobbling knees,

spinning rooms,

they won’t stop,

too much of anything

is dangerous.

Is there a difference between us,

or am I just another drunk,

with an unhealthy addiction.