Wednesday, July 3, 2024

Lips and a glass of wine April 8, 2012

 


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.

 



email to Al Sullivan

No comments:

Post a Comment