One of the possible side effects,
she says, pointing to the bottle
that I have just sipped till its empty,
is immediate and serious.
Death, she says. I fall in love
with the way she says the word,
so final, so sure, and with the way
that she waited to tell me about
the danger until after I drank the liquid,
and with the way she insisted I not drink
the bottle alone. Never mind
what it was. I’m alive.
And something inside me
is so, so thirsty.