You had eight wineglasses when we started out
They were as fragile as bee stingers
They died one by one like the marines in Aliens
They each perished in a memorable way,
like the wineglass that got a faceful of acid blood
when a nearby alien took an exploding round to the torso
or the one that fell through the dishwasher's bottom rack
and I helped you take the remains to the garbage
in the funeral way one handles broken glass
Maybe one wineglass even betrayed another
and caused its death before an outsider could harm it
Then of course karma killed the guilty wineglass off pretty quick after,
the cat swatting it down for attention or something, I don't know,
I can't keep up with this shit

You're down to two now. All we really needed.
But when it's down to the last two in a movie like Aliens,
you know the end credits are coming soon,
and the movie will let out, and we will exit into summer
and the fragrant air that we osmose into in a seamless segue