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Two shots of whiskey

Last night was of beauty,

trapped in glasses, two souls grazed against night,

struggling to reach out for each other,

drowning in shots of whiskey,

he poured a little on her; for she was empty,

filling voids, unburdening words, floating, breathing;

from behind glasses they explored skins,

hours passed by and they were high; for each glass was now half filled,

the air above and Bowmore beneath,

celebrations of emotions which were hiding in a scared sheath,

the moments saturated with bliss bubbling around their waists,

little by little the suffocating glasses turned into solace,

the night was not eternal and the beauty was ephemeral,

but the aftermaths were forever and beyond.


The cover image was taken in Lake Skadar, Montenegro

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