A Glass of Red, Please
Wine glasses were empty, perfectly lined up upon a self
Sometimes I think about your life before me. Did I ruin you?
Wine glasses are becoming full of laughter and promise as they drain
I think about the friendships you had. Seeing your swap stories with them makes my heart ache to know you as they do.
Wine glasses will be touched by a thousand different lips with a thousand different stories
You have lived so many lives before me. As did your mother and her mother. Do you see them in me? Can I live my life through yours?
A wine glass was perfectly crafted with a long slender stem that sprouted into a gaping hole
I hope that I filled a hole within you but I never wish to exceed the space you’ve given. I guess at some point I need to, or you need to become a bigger glass.
A wine glass is broken, fragments of its’ life all around the kitchen floor surrounded by echos of screams
I think about how many glasses I’ve broken. For eighteen years and counting, I’ve been nicknamed Captain Destructo. Sobs escaped my lips each time, till your arms held me together reminding me it was just a glass. I think I was afraid that one day my destruction would catch up to me and I’d break you.
A wine glass will be thrown away once it has the slightest crack
I like to think that you are perfect. Someone who can do no wrong, but that is unfair of me. When I was thirteen you could’ve had one crack and I’d thrown you away. Now, I keep a bottle of glue in my purse.
Wine glasses were patiently waiting to be filled, to fulfill their purpose, to give and give until someone inevitably comes to suck them dry.
You’ve given me everything in this life. How can I ever repay you? How can I ever stop drinking from your cup? Am I draining you?
Wine glasses are a necessity to have in a home.
You are my home. You are what I will carry with me throughout my days in this life and the next. My daughter will feel the love you’ve given me.
Wine glasses will be used by the same lips throughout generations.
You were once me. You were eighteen with absolutely nothing in your life figured out. As was your mother, and her mother before. So how did they learn? How did you? How did all of the women of my past become who they were if they all started right where I am?
