High Spirits
 |
| This is what AI thought of this poem |
HIGH SPIRITS
In the dim glow of the bar, I savor this one’s essence—
a gin Martini, sharp and refined, clarity in her gaze,
a whisper of juniper secrets, cool and commanding.
That one is a Mojito, lively, vibrant with mint and lime,
frosted glass, sparkling laughter, a breath of rebellion.
Her companion’s spirit is rum, warm and deep, layered with stories.
A well-dressed Old Fashioned–bittersweet, carrying history in her eyes,
whiskey’s amber glow hiding a thousand quiet tears,
sitting with a Cosmopolitan, as elegant as her dreams, bright,
a splash of cranberry, daring to be seen, to be loved.
There is a Negroni, intricate, sweetly bitter, shadows dancing on her lips,
Vermouth and Campari, contrast in her soul, balancing grace and grit.
And she is a Margarita, tangy, fiery, with salt on her skin,
lime zest of resilience, a dash of tango in her smile.
In the next one’s eyes, I find a Bloody Mary, complex and bold, a kick of defiance,
tomato rich, spicy, searching for hope, anchoring real strength.
My new favorite is a sweet Piña Colada, tropical but
masking pain beneath the creamy veneer,
coconut whispers of longing, fleeting pineapple bursts of joy.
With each sip, depth is revealed, a top-shelf array of womanly spirits,
An intricate commingling of flavors, no two alike, yet all full of life—
Women, cocktails of the universe, poured into glasses of infinite stories.
-----
I would love to know what you thought about this piece.
Please consider leaving a comment.
Comments
Post a Comment