Habitual

I have begun limiting myself
to one glass of wine a night. 
The most bitter of cocktails,
so that each sip is a reminder
that the taste of cognizance
can hit my tongue better
than reality can try and force
me to think otherwise.

I suppose the cherry doesn’t
fall far from the tree. 
Though I’ve every intention of
tying knots with my tongue. 

– B.  

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