To Gin
By: Sorakirin

Gin
Sweet Gin
Warm liquid that burns by throat

And yet I love you for it.
You who hurts me,
But at the same time makes me numb.

I have enjoyed your company ever since,
That cold winter’s day,
When the rain was only misting,

Soaking me to my bones.
Somehow the thought crossed my mind,
To seek you out and try you that first time.

Your first name to me was Broker’s.
I admit your little bowler hat drew me in.
My first sip of you was warm and comforting.

You were my companion for that first finals week,
Of my Senior year of college.
My mind undone by a class.

But you were there by my side,
Calming my nerves,
And making me feel ok.

On our second encounter,
Your name was Bombay Sapphire.
Truly it was a name worthy of you.

When I sipped you then,
It was as if I had a moment,
Of pure transcendence.

No other of your shapes,
Would ever hold a candle to you.
But soon you were gone, and I missed you.

In our most recent encounter,
You called yourself New Amsterdam.
You’re price was nice.

Much cheaper then your previous form.
But when I had my first sip,
You smelled all wrong.

Like rubbing alcohol.
But as I sipped you grew on me yet again.
I could probably have done far worse.

You are the only form of alcohol,
Asides from wine of course,
That I have bothered to try different brands of.

Our’s is a magical journey,
One that I hope to continue without fear,
Into the far future of what is yet to come.