Lamp Shade Secrets

Charles Elliott photo

How many single malts served clean
before the truth starts to reveal itself?

The blush of my cheeks rise with every sip
and still you pour

unaware of the devil your releasing...
or are you, I wonder
as you pour again...
your own glass emptied
with a snicker

It's Brora on the table
Harry Connick on the stereo
Still I am able
to act like I don't know what you're doing.

Ignoring the ringing of the ancient phone
that hangs from the cottage wall.
Who? I wonder
but you'll have none of that.

Ignoring the smoke that dances through the air
a draft in the wood stove, closed too soon.
I offer to open a window
You tell me not to be so nervous

Watching you raise the bottle
I let your voice carry me away
with tales of grand adventures
my cemented feet can only dream of.

Still you pour
as we venture toward the bottom of the bottle
and like moths to the flame
the beaded bedroom lamp
beckons

No ice is needed
The atmosphere boiling
Giving rise to the devil

I bow to your magic
all sense of moral superiority erased
I become wanting human

 flawed, imperfect, and all yours.
The truth you've always known.

Joanne Elliott bring the work of Charles Elliott to the Sunday Snapshot over at NWCU...his images are fantastic...and I'm sure the resulting creations will be too. Come play!