Liquid Gold

By Shamika Muthane

Brew of rye swirling in glass,

Dark and edgy like a winter night,

Unabashedly earthy on tongue and whisper of creaminess on lips.

Like a pool of honey, sweet and warm;

It goes down the throat and wraps around your heart;

Dark promises of this liquid sunshine to warm you from inside.

Burning behind the throat, its spice; You sip the poison vanilla nice,

There’s a lilting sweetness drifting through the bitter warmth as it washes over

your tongue sweet and round.

Wrapped in perfume and moored to your body as it blooms in your chest, it

stops the scurrying of the time and you float like smoke through the noise.

Liquid gold in your glass spicy and sour, like cinders of your heart; you sip the

poison distinct and dark.

By Shamika Muthane