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.
