Glass Half.....

Past caring, the flash of expectation has dulled in her eyes,
Lost in time and alcohol
Fancy cubes melted into useless blurs,
She carelessly pushes them under the surface
Watching them bounce back.
An hour spent on polished nails,
Wrapped around a stock
Sinking unsinkable ice.

The waiter watches her, saddened at the waste
As she catches his eye he shrugs and flashes
A smile of encouragement; ‘Aim higher’.
Shaking her head as if throwing a thought
She pushes her glass away, picks up her coat
Self-consciously, deliberately, clicks elegantly to the door
And without a backward glance,
Strides out into the brashly-lit street.