Lighter Than Air
I miss drinking wine. A glass half-full, myself presiding over it like the goddess I am. The habitual swirling I find myself so accustomed to practicing. Even though in all honesty, it’s just the cry of a basic bitch tryna be fancy. I miss the smell of a good time at my doorstep as my nose gets close to that glass. Boldly announcing itself, like the air right before rainfall when you have just bought…