Pardon my thirst.
When I pierce the midnight storm
I am more arrow than man
the way the rain thinning above
is more fangs than water.
Two shadows away, a stranger
sits in a mist dress
lit only by the last burning embers
of his cigarette. He sees me and my thirst
you must be after something sinister to be out after dark.
I respond by reaching the street, knees first.
tooth-marked by night’s bite,
absorbs whatever little moisture it can
and I beg
for some thing other than a swallow
in this summer-dry sponge
of a mouth.
With the fire of his cigarette now drowned,
I see him sucked
by the black
and I, facing upwards,
make a glass
out of my open lips
With a mouth full, I finally drink that night.
I drink it slowly.
Christos Kalli, born in Larnaca, Cyprus, is currently studying for his undergraduate degree in English Literature at the University of Glasgow. His poetry has been recently shortlisted for the Jane Martin Poetry Prize, and his INT. NIGHT was a finalist for the Sutra Press Chapbook Contest. His work can be found or is forthcoming in The American Journal of Poetry, The Adroit Journal, The Los Angeles Review, minnesota review, [PANK], and Barely South Review, among others. He is a Poetry Reader for The Adroit Journal. His website is christoskalli.com.