The Wine Glass
Your shape is subtle sensuous curves
offering up blood-red nectar
sliding silently into the warmth of my mouth
Buttery blossoms of fruit and aged sorrow
Swimming through my veins
flooding my senses with pulsating warmth
Swirls of soft fingertips over your rim
evoke a haunting note
swollen anxious lips curve over you
to catch every drop
Do not fear your emptiness for
I will fill you up once more
and dance again with you till dawn
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