21 April, 2011

Wine.

A conversation like wine,
Flowing, slipping, dripping,
Rich rich red, yellow, white,
Bittersweet and forgotten,
She murmurs into her glass,
Like that's all there is, isn't there?
Bouncing, breaking, shattering,
Even crystal becomes ugly,
It's naive at this point,
To suggest more than that.

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