empty bottles

Soft trickle.

Wine down his soft beard.

Wine bottle sitting atop the table.

Empty. With four others.

The soft drink which people use to forget their troubles.

Only used to the drinker's advantage or not.

But truly, never wanted.

The soft drink strikes similarity to my soft words.

Only used when there is no one else to turn to.

Or not.

But truly, never wanted.

Wine fills his mouth, until he's gulping.

Gulping for the wine, gulping for my words.

My voice cuts out, the wine ends.

The bottle and I are left unwanted,

he is gone.