Monday, January 30, 2006

The Wine of You

In winter's embrace, I seek the solace
of an icy night; twisted satin on my limbs.
You cling to the way my hair falls,
across the hollows of my cheeks;
chestnut brown on fire.

I watch as you offer me a drink,
the kiss of wine on your lips
and I shiver from winter's influence
on the grapes of love.
Shall I fall drunken at your feet?

The labors of wine are like love,
each grape-kiss squeezed dry;
corks popping open to reveal secrets
and the heady delight of being drunken
and warm like chestnut hair on fire.

You whisper that I am the glass,
and you are the wine, pouring into me.
I offer no resistence to the flavor
of hickory and berries-the taste of you.
What will you do, once my wine's aged...

and ready to savor like the flesh of sin?

Found time to write a poem

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