You think of me at the end of your whiskey. You think of me at the end of your bottle, and the clock is creeping on 3AM. I wake up to your messages in the morning, because it so happens I was not around when you wanted me. I write back. It’s 3PM and my inbox has been untouched by you. Read and ignored, I figured. I wonder what you wanted to tell me. I guess you’re not around when I want you. I’d have to wait until you’re swimming at the end of your glass.
I wish you’d always carry whiskey around with you.
daily glass of Mardini 