Anthology

The sunlight hits every bottle, gently kissing them with warmth.

Everything is cold and empty,

only receiving life from a distant light. The martinis sit with
dried up olives lying inside,
a symbol of the anger and
ending sadness of a desperate night. The shakers have
been manhandled by those shouting and screaming.
Actions fueled by anger
and intoxication; nothing
was safe from the shallow
hatred. Some may forget
what was said and others
won’t. But as the sunlight
shines through and the
screams fade into the
walls, the only certainty
is that once again more
will be had and
the party will continue
anew.