Aqua Vitae

How I feign for the bitter brown nectar
to roll down every inch of my throat,
Its arms to reach towards my neck like a villain,
leaving a welcomed burning sensation
teasing at the back of my tongue,
Its habit of spreading itself around my body,
blanketing every anxiety with
a numb embrace,
That iota of a second in which my
mind disagrees until
its realization of the relaxation its host abruptly undergoes
The last dance on the surface of my tongue
in the final attempts to be savored,
for every last drop.
Whiskey is a hell of a drink.


6 thoughts on “Aqua Vitae

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