At the Far Corner of the Bar

You’re at the corner of the bar,

Holding the same tulip-shaped glass of whiskey

With the crutch of your hand,

Swirling it in smooth circular movements I always tried but failed to imitate.

You only drink whiskey.

You only drink whiskey in a tulip shaped glass.

You’re always at the corner of the bar- far corner of the bar.

But always with me.

This time you’re by yourself.

I know that look you're wearing,

Indifferent, detached

As if you really aren’t there.

But I know what that means.

I know you.

I know why you like whiskey

And why you drink it out of a tulip-shaped glass.

I know why you always stand in the corner of the bar- the far corner of the bar

And why you now look indifferent.

The only thing I don’t know.

Is why you stand there without me this time.