Drunk

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I sat on a sofa with my back leaning against it. My head tilted back, I was looking at the ceiling. Drunk.

I carried a glass of memory of you on the rocks in my right hand. I was drunk by the memory of us.

My friend poked my arm a while after, being afraid I would pass out. I slowly turned my head to her. She handed me a glass filled with water.

“Drink more, you are drunk!”

I turned my empty eyes back to study the ceiling.

Yes, I was drunk. I had been drunk all these years remembering you.

And believed you would have remembered me too.


Suggested soundtrack: The Masquerade is Over by Nancy Wilson and Cannonball Adderley