I watch how her fingers curl
around the stem of
her wine glass,
lifting it to her
lips as if
sniffing the
fragrance of a rose,
lips poised on the
rim for each sip,
it is the eyes that catch me
like a flash of dark lightning,
staring back at me over the glass.
I cannot read what goes on
behind them, so completely mysterious.
I sip my beer to quench
a thirst that is so much more
than just a thirst,
already lost in that
web of wine
and lips and fingers
and eyes,
unable to look any
place else,
the threads tying me up
as if I am a flay
one previous fiber at a time
until I feel so
constricted,
I can barely breathe,
tied up so I can look
at no place else
but at her and her glass of wine.
No comments:
Post a Comment