Bourbon Baptism

Two fingers dance beneath the lip of glass,
Sun-burnt amber swirling, slow and sly.
Not often do I dive in deep, alas,
But tonight, oh, tonight, the cares all dry.

Rare are these nights, libations bittersweet,
A truce with temperance, a stolen treat.
Bourbon baptism, worries on the rim,
Downed like vows at weddings, swiftly dim.

Sweet mana pours, this heady gold refined,
Turns my tongue to velvet, soothes the strife.
Social lubricant, with minds aligned,
In confessional fires, secrets come to life.

Laughter bubbles, social oil applied,
Strangers bond as one, side by side.
Ohio drawl unfurls, secrets take flight,
In pale whiskey light, truth shines so bright.

Rare are these nights, libations bittersweet,
A truce with temperance, a stolen treat.
Bourbon baptism, worries on the rim,
Downed like vows at weddings, swiftly dim.

In this liquid gold, a paradox,
We drown our sorrows, yet see them plain.
Two fingers trace the rim, a thoughtful box,
Holding reflections of joy and pain.