Domestic

I like beer bottles better than cans

I like the way it tastes, simple and unpretentious like it was never meant to be anything but this

I like the sigh when its freed from the glass, released pressure lingering in the air for those precious few seconds before floating off somehwere-- anywhere-- but here

I like the feeling of twisting a top off, proud when its easy and satisfied when it's a challenge

Maybe I just like the proof that something can be changed by my hands

I like having something to pick at, to peel back labels and layers when my conversation partner finds mine too thick

I like the way nobody cares if you finish too fast, because it's just a bottle

I like the way it makes me look, chin tilted up like something close to defiance and skin rippling as I swallow

A $5.99 proximity to masculinity

Maybe I like the way it gives me an excuse to bare my throat instead of my teeth

I like the power granted to me from the bottle, secondhand lust-lidded eyes surprised and delighted when I wrap my lips round the top

Phallic fruit so low-hanging, but sweet all the same

I like flipping the caps when I'm in a good mood, and pressing them into my skin when I'm not

I like that if i blow into the top, I can make it sing

I like that if i hurl it at the wall, i can make it shatter

I like beer bottles because they remind me of my mother

I dislike beer cans because they remind me of my mother, and of me.