Tori Cybulski
A strawberry margarita blended with sugar please and he’ll have the moonshine margarita a specialty double splash of the worst moonshine you have because he doesn’t enjoy the burn that comes from cooked blue agave and my hands reach for the plate our server said was hot but I can’t resist plunging my fork in the brown pool of beans mixing in the orange rice before plopping it into my anticipatory mouth and right about now you’re probably dying to know where this place is but the truth is I don’t want to know anymore because this poem isn’t about the fucking tequila it’s about how he left me when the ice in my drink melted how when he was gone I took my final sips letting the waitress take my glass away only after watching her drop his empty on the wood floor did I realize that it was done the glass shards lay where they may and I’d rather not have my shoes.
Tori Cybulski is in her last year of undergrad at Rocky. In the spring of 2022, she will graduate with a major in communications and creative writing. While she did try writing nonfiction this year, she mainly enjoys writing poetry about her life.
The Rocky Mountain Review 