THREE GLASSES OF WINE | Bridie Wilkinson’s poem shares a moment of vulnerability with her body.
by Bridie Wilkinson
i drank three glasses of wine on
and tried to convince myself that i was
i wore a plush velvet robe from my mother
and scrunched it close, like a lover
and i played music; the kind where the
bass pulls you in from your toes and
scraped my heels in mercy as it dragged
me up to dance
alone in my kitchen
but as i wrapped my arms around the
curve of my stomach
and caught sight of myself hovering in the
reflection of nighttime
A whole city enveloped by my body
I couldn’t help but wish I was elsewhere
delicately fading in between a shadow
instead of demanding myself to feel
Or else, feel nothing at all.
Bridie Wilkinson | @bridifer
Co-founder of Dear Damsels. Not at all judging three glasses of wine on a Wednesday.