Shebeen

I never get drunk, she says.
Let’s try your tolerance, he replies.
He makes an eloquent toast.
Hers was Cheers.
Cold liquid runs down their throats.

Is alcohol the panacea we are looking for?
Once again they raise their drinks to their lips and swallow.
A slight sting.
They speak of deep secrets and dark pasts.
They cry deep inside and swallow their tears.
They make a last order.
For the road, they chorus.