A glass jar, filled with red.
I hold it, slosh it around, smell and hear it.
The lid won't come off,
I strain against it, eyes wild.
There's love in there,
I'm sure.
Bottled somehow, sealed away.
I can see it, but I can't feel it.
You find me, you watch me.
I don't notice, I strain.
Your hands on mine,
I jump, spell broken.
Let me have it,
you say.
I look up at you,
memories flashing.
And my hands are empty,
except for the buzz of your touch.
It was a 20 Rupee potion.
A red jar on a shelf.
Your hair is on my pillow.
