Absinthe Drinker – Viktor Oliva (c.1903)

Suddenly you find yourself

Half-asleep with your face in your palms

Gazing at the absence across the table

And a shrinking glass of absinthe, still debating 

whether you’re physically able to peel

Yourself from your seat when

She reappears

Cloaked in green

and nudges the paper across the counter. Your eyes are red and drooping

Like melting candle wax   

You need rest and a distraction

from the news and the emptiness

Of this speakeasy

So she squeezes your fingertips and whispers

Room 128

 before dissipating 

into the thick smoky air, leaving you 

alone again

Until the bartender taps you on the shoulder

And asks who you’ve been speaking to.the_absinthe_drinker_by_viktor_oliva

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