Storyteller

This wine glass is real.

I can hold it in my hand

It’s made of lightweight glass

And holds heavy Merlot

Beautifully.

I can hold it up to the light

See through it

Swish dark wine against its sides

Hear it clink back down

Onto the hard granite circle

Of my tiny nightstand.

This wine glass is real.

This wine glass is real

But you…

Are you?

You spin these lofty yet logical tales

They make you sound

Old-fashioned

Quirky

Adorable

Romantic

Mysterious.

Yet in this digital world

Of tracking tools and comment threads

Your stories quickly

Unravel.

You throw pet names around

At will

And throw love around

Carelessly.

And I want to know

If there’s anyone genuine left out there

If you’re a wine glass or

Just another catfish.

Or if my burns run so deep

I can’t help but seek out

Holes and cracks and lies

And expect disappointment

Before it takes me by surprise

Again

Leaves me limp and drowning

Like the mosquito in my wine glass

Mistaking my dry red

For sweet blood.