Really well done. The waiting patiently for the right time to reveal its internal secrets is wonderfully played. The freeform looseness being targeted to bring people together is awesome. I especially like the rhythm of this line “The rhythm of the wineglass flows in tandem with the pour”. That already seems like a song line. I actually don’t have much in the way of critique. This is really well done.
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I like the common theme of subjectivity with both the wineglass and the poem, and especially the spectrum of poetry from decanted to corked - that is a very original way of thinking about it!
evening is a wince
at the mercy of nerves i stammer as i pour another glass of barefoot chardonnay. red solo cups crinkled and kicked as i drag myself to the bed. clawing at sheets with the aftertaste of cinnamon poison on my breath. the lights dimmed and the sun set with no period in the interim. blackout. i recall voices whirling around my head, my cheek pressed to the cold porcelain and ambient knocking at the door that i hear like an old memory. my stomach is a cavern that growls like a beast. flickering in and out of consciousness as i blink and taste the vomit eroding my throat with acid. i hear a four on the floor and it is a stark contrast to the quiet bathroom i’m tucked in the corner of. i clicked the small brass lock on the door knob and wrote my name with lipstick on the mirror smudging it with a kiss. the evening is a wince over before it begins. i’m left with phantom bruises and sore