The last dinner party

It’s sour that feeling of regret. Seen through the haze across the turkey and the tinsel. It lurks underneath the last empty bottle of wine as the goodwill is scraped off and put aside for the dogs.

It can’t be carved and dished out on warm plates. There is no sauce to dull the acrid edges. It is yours alone to swallow. The bitterness sliding down the back of your throat, the aftertaste catching and making you gag. The foaming in the pit of your stomach, the heartburn of words you can’t take back. The sour of the intent clinging to the roof of your mouth.

You worry. Are there no more chances? Will you continue to be led by a string of unthinking resentments and hurtful quips overheard in the dark? What can you do when you can’t fix it? No matter how long you spend collecting the crystal shards, rearranging and rearranging them, they will never fit just right. You will always see the seams and will have to admit you put them there. That you are the careless guest.

You are the one asked to leave and not invited back.

The last dinner party

observer

Perth, Australia

  • Artist
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  • Artwork Comments 4

Artist's Description

Just a feeling, nothing more.

Artwork Comments

  • deliriousgirl
  • observer
  • Karirose
  • observer
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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