Thirst
by Mary Davini
It’s all the extra lime, you said,
The secret to a great gin and tonic.
And you brought us heavy, glistening glasses, already
wet with condensation at leaving
the air conditioning for the hot, breezy balcony.
They dripped over our fingers
and left wide, wet rings on the arms of our chairs.
We three, in a perfect pocket of shade and quiet laughter
sipped our cocktails and spoke the wisdom
of summer afternoons.
I assured myself it wouldn’t end –
there were eons of balconies ahead –
many more moments to be family and friends.
But I held a lime and cried for you today.
Wept over the extra you we’ll never have.
I hurled it at the nothing where you should be
and watched the sticky juice
run streaks down the wall.
Then, with a carefully measured king shot
of goodbyes I never wanted to say
I raised a glass to you
and all the ghosts
still living in my heart.
The secret to a great gin and tonic.
And you brought us heavy, glistening glasses, already
wet with condensation at leaving
the air conditioning for the hot, breezy balcony.
They dripped over our fingers
and left wide, wet rings on the arms of our chairs.
We three, in a perfect pocket of shade and quiet laughter
sipped our cocktails and spoke the wisdom
of summer afternoons.
I assured myself it wouldn’t end –
there were eons of balconies ahead –
many more moments to be family and friends.
But I held a lime and cried for you today.
Wept over the extra you we’ll never have.
I hurled it at the nothing where you should be
and watched the sticky juice
run streaks down the wall.
Then, with a carefully measured king shot
of goodbyes I never wanted to say
I raised a glass to you
and all the ghosts
still living in my heart.
Mary Davini has been in love with poetry since the age of 8. She steals minutes to write from the beautiful chaos that comes with raising three daughters. She has had work published in a few MN literary journals and was chosen as a Sidewalk Poet in the inaugural year of the St. Paul Sidewalk Poetry project. Aside from poetry, she loves the sound of robins in the evenings, the smell of olive oil in a cast iron skillet, and her husband.