Dinner Party for 2 (for Beginners)

Slide your drink across the table, child.

Talk through a cigarette 

hanging off of your chapped, 

and faded lips.

Eat with your hands,

you frail beast,

while whiskey seeps

into the unpolished wood flooring.

Animalistic brutality;

it is your nature, 

it is not mine.

So, while you sit here,

and throw crude punches with your slurred words,

from across this forsaken, cold room,

I will twirl my fork,

and I will sip my wine.

My lipstick, 

as red and as potent as your face,

will go unsmudged. 


By Hanna Garber

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


Opus Archive!

Check out the history of our pages here!