When it is in the glass,
It swishes like water
It smells like the sting of a clean wound
It flurries around the glass, breathing in the air around it
It is only 4 inches tall, but it is a skyscraper
It nurtures, it creates life where there was once barren land
It fills stomachs with an ounce,
It breaks things, like other glasses, other people
It feels like a fire, lit inside the wet of the throat
It burns the way heartbreak does,
As if the physicality of the pain is a shield,
The 2 ounces of liquid in front of me feel like a windstorm.
Nurturing me, feeding me, protecting me,
But in the end,
All that's broken is the glass
And my heart.