Poetry

Why I Go
Kristi Wilson
When you drink
you have less winter
about you.  It is 

there, of course,
camouflaged by the easy
warmth of whisky.  I

am greedy for you 
then, for every word,
for hot bursts

of breath smacking
my thirst of skin when
you speak four inches

from my face.  You 
erase time.  By the time
we leave, intoxication

is complete.  I have
drowned in it.  Surfacing
is as bitter as ice.

"Wellington" Kristi Wilson
Last Call
Kristi Wilson
My eyes are burning
a hole in a bit
of conversation, bound
as I am to this
group.  I cling
to the curtains
fly-like and waiting,
treading the tip
of a once-cold
cocktail and listening.
Listening.  Teach 
me how to speak, how
to kill a taboo, to lean
in and yes  to touch.

Kristi Wilson is a senior at UTA, and has poetry forthcoming in Ilya's Honey and Borderlands. She recently received honorable mention in the Dallas Poets Community's national poetry competition.

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