Cognac

She’s got a look in her eyes –
poured from the finest decanter
into glasses that shimmer and shake,
raging with the thunder of one whose
indomitable willpower leaves those around her
tipsy.

*This poem is a continuation of a project where I chose a color, and wrote a poem on the first three words that came to mind. In this case, they were eyes, a drink, and drunk*

Tempered

Break my heart, will you?
I don’t care, it’s
Too late for another
Chance to make things right.
Honestly, you don’t deserve it.