—Perspective fades to infinity; the drink elongates into distance with each sip.

The glass was tall, the ice aligned,
a corridor for drink to find.
Through length and chill, the path was drawn,
its edges thinning as it shone.

Whiskey whispered at the start,
dry fizz unrolled its airy chart,
and citrus traced a pale horizon,
a fleeting mark the tongue set eyes on.

You drank. The middle stretched away,
a tunnel drinking back the day.
Each swallow seemed to push the end
just past where reach or thought could bend.

The point recedes. The glass runs dry.
Some distances refuse goodbye.

📜 Vanishing Point Highball – The Recipe

Instructions:
Build in a highball glass over a spear of crystal-clear ice. Pour whisky first, then soda water in a steady stream to preserve carbonation. Let the lemon twist sink and drift toward the vanishing bottom. Serve immediately.