l o v e & n o s t a l g i a » poetry

c h a m p a g n e l i k e h o n e y

the champagne dripped from her lips
like honey—
the honey that sticks to her fingers
on warm, sunny days
when she sips her tea
with her pinky up

now she drowns her sorrow
in the alcohol he serves her,
the same man
who caused her her sorrows,
so she forgets her worries
and falls back into his arms
(or his bed, rather)