off you

my fringed dress fanned as I spun and looked like a lion’s mane

especially from my aerial view

but then also, it looked like your hand around a bottle

as it’s softness hugged my body

and I think

whatever brewed inside boiled sweet and fiery

in your hands

and without them

people stare me down for hours on end, hopeful

but there’s not one bubble, not even a hiss

though I try and hate to keep them waiting

I know something’s broken

the heat won’t turn on

when it’s off

you

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