Whiskey in a Teacup 

S​he walks with grace, her steps a gentle rain,
A whisper in the wind, yet a storm contained.

Her presence feels like fine whiskey's warm embrace,
The kind of beauty that disrupts the world's pace.

Her aura pulls, like a magnet of soul,
An invitation to lose all control.

Eyes like honey, with a dangerous glow,
Her warmth is sweet, but there's power below.

She's whiskey in a teacup, bold yet refined,
A paradox of fire and delicate mind.

She's the destination many chase,
Enchanted by her delightful face.

Many are drawn to her ethereal air,
Addicted to the rush they find there.

For in her lies a delicate charm,
A balance of wildness, yet free from harm.

She is a flame that both burns and soothes,
A woman of mystery, refusing to lose.

Whiskey in a teacup, fierce and fair,
A rare kind of magic, beyond compare.

-Sidra