Cocktails

Hours poured out like a cocktail

the mix of tears and love,

a daiquiri of dreams

served during happy hours

advertised by bartenders

hidden in darkness

where whiskey lies

allow the thoughts

to give life

unto distilled memories

until the seat next to you

is occupied by a clone,

a perfect image of oneself

unblemished by the truth.

 

That replicated essence

goes home in other’s minds.

While they left you

with their version,

someone before the alcohol

swims through head

an one is lost in the night’s sea

they all drown,

recreated another night

after enough rounds.