Posted in Poetry, Writing

Chasing the Illusion

She never liked the taste of whiskey 
preferring the sweetness of wine  

The twilight mornings 
teetering home on tipsy stiletto heels 

She tries to shower away the 
foggy memories

the lights and music 
are a temptation 

the thrill of laying 
in strangers' arms 

to postpone the loneliness 
one more night 

Facing the morning light 
the reality 

The allure 
is too strong  

she'll once again 
chase the illusion

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