The party was in its
waning hours;
little groups huddled together
spilling drinks
in lively conversations.
She found me
between mixed drinks,
between slipping chatter.
She kissed me;
tasted of sweet vermouth
and hard whiskey.
She sighed
and leaned against me
marking my shirt
with the remnants
of her lipstick.
We left
escaping redundant
lifeless dialogues
and made Manhattans
with bitters
and cherries
under a
waxing moon.
We didn’t spill a drop.
Author notes
image from Yahoo images - herecomesanothersongaboutmexico
Comments
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nice
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nice, really, really nice hon.
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This is fantastic!! Really accurately painted picture... just wonderful. I'm ready for a drink - TGIF!!
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great descriptions...I could see it all play out vividly
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