When I am alone, it's easy to assume I am lonely.
I have a ton of baggage, does that count? Strange memories. Where do I put them? Stories whirring in my head. How do I land them? My monkey mind, unable to rest on a plane.
And then, finally, I have you firmly trapped in a wine bottle from about 16 years ago. A bottle that we both shared. You were so drunk that you never noticed how I lulled you into that glass thing.
One day, I shall set you onto the sea. My sage in the bottle.
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