Sweetness and Salt

The bottle waits for me,

beads of sweat sliding down the glass

like the touch of your hand on my back.

I open it slowly.

The smell of warm sugarcane,

a hint of sea air,

makes me think of you.

I pour a drink, watch the amber swirl.

It’s the colour of late evenings

when your hair caught the last light.

Rum tastes like salt and wanting,

like the breath we shared in dark rooms.

I remember how we used to talk

until the night forgot itself,

until our words turned soft and tangled.

One sip, and it all returns;

your voice low,

your smile that made everything easier.

Love is always part ache, part sweetness,

like this.

A reminder that nothing stays the same

but some things never really leave.

Outside, July presses close,

humid and heavy,

like the hush before a storm.

Inside, I drink to the times

we thought would never end.

To the way your touch

still finds me in quiet moments.

I raise my glass to the memories,

to every hour that felt infinite.

Rum makes me bold enough to remember,

brave enough to miss you.

I taste the longing,

the hope that still flickers

like a candle in my chest.

Tonight, the glass is my small tribute

to love that outlasts distance.

Happy World Rum Day.

I drink to you,

and to every moment we couldn’t keep.