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Alcoholic
Lightheaded I ambled
towards the lonely pub.
Liquor helps sometimes you know.
It burns the mind,
empties it
of niggling thoughts,
of subtle yearnings,
of ambitious aspirations.
There she was
redhead and flushed.
A companion in distress.
We drank together,
confessed together,
envied together.
Time's up.
Outwards we lurched
hugging each other
towards the beach
where empty cabins
gave us respite.
Morning arrived.
She was not there.
Pity!
I knew not her name.
Might as well call her
whisky.
Copyright ©
Victor Buhagiar
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