A forefinger rubbed along the lip of a glass makes it moan;
My fingers stained and sticky from dipping inside;
This wine makes me whine from inside out;
Finger to tongue to test this vintage
Before I lift the lip of glass to my lips to sip,
My finger on this rim seeking soft edge
Into which I ache to plunge,
Tongue first and then the rest of me
A sip, and then, alas, consumption
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