Red Wine

Image from Pixabay

Bottled and aged with sophistication,
I’m infatuated.
Her look. Her charm.
More so, my virginity unrelated.

She pours into my glass,
smooth as satin only her and I know.
Her elegance intoxicating.
Touching my lips, I ask for more.

Sharing my thoughts with her,
I breathe in every bittersweet reply.
Glass after glass,
eventually calling it a night.

I went to bed alone,
laying there in silhouetted light.
I fell in love with a woman
who I met in a glass of red wine.


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