Whisky

It’s …
the slip of it around your tongue,
the weight of it, the flexibility. Amber velvet.
A taste of colour.

A familiar sting. Then breathe it in – the smell that makes you smile every time. Like a secret shared between you and this. And then, the second sip.

Roll it round your mouth, then you can relax, muscle and mind absorbed in the rhythm, the knowing what’s next.
Splash it round the glass, round your eyes.
Watch the legs form, run down the side, as you feel it slip down your throat.

The colour, the taste, the movement – these are the things you call it by, not just a name and a number you could attach to anything, not something you know, this is something you ken.

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