One Sip at a Time

I formulate a cocktail. Basement shelf vodka and sink water mixed in an empty can. No need for pageantry. Its effects the same no matter the method of delivery. I sip, swish, and swallow. Wait for warmth. Bubbles of fuzz filling brain. Soon slip to the flip side — an otherworld where time recedes like low tide. I know it’ll come crashing back but for now it’s gone. So into this earth I step, one sip at a time.