Wine

Your words That dance down my spine In the crease of my neck Your whisper As cold as the glass piercing through my back No, Those are just your hands Your hands My eyes Begging for your touch Your fingers As sharp as knives Cutting through my skin My love In the palm of your hands The grape vines sprouting from your lips Wrap themselves around my neck So sweet So bitter Like your empty promises The wine trickling from your tongue Spills onto my lap Leaving a stain The vine is not a vine But a snake, Swallowing everything I know Poisoning everything I love I try to escape But I want to stay You always knew how to leave a stain.