[re:Stacks by Ben Foster]
I set down my cup,
you fill it up.
I drink, set it down,
you fill it up again.
We do this until we are both
laughing madly,
dancing and smiling.
Only I am too drunk to see
that you are not drinking;
that you were never dancing;
that you have stopped pouring
and we have nothing to laugh about.
How long have I been the only drunkard at the table?
Did your lips ever even touch this wine?
Did you ever even crave a sip of it?
Or was all your pleasure in the pouring
and watching me dance
and laughing?
2 comments:
I get the feeling (from this and a few others) that you've been reading a lot of Rumi lately. Might just be me, though.
Love the 'how long' line.
I HAVE! Though I have been for a really long time, actually. This one was the first where I actively sort of tried to channel that style. The first four lines just sort of came to me, and when I read them I thought 'Hmm. That sounds like Rumi. Lets see how far this can go.'
Thanks for reading. ^_^
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