The Drink

Cannabis cough syrup

The Drink

Each separate lip would crust then stick together.

His cracking cough would foul the feeble air

inside the shack. He stuttered through the door

and to the field in fickle light of the cloud-

covered moon, allowing him faltering vision of

the pump. He moved towards liquid, then extracted

a seeping groan of slow relief to his quivering

cup. A lagging return to his shack and his table

to sip his relief. He carefully set the cup,

then clatter, clutter, clank, and carefree spill,

the cup rocked empty beneath the table


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