I sat at a wine bar last night
and unfolded across the prosecco
seeking lips.
then we walk into crowds
bodies pressed close
and fire twirling nearby
and standing on snow drifts to see
we are now sipping champagne
in another bar.
now smelling bright cologne and
running fingers across skin
and it is late
and I am dancing
and it is new, cold and fresh.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
i really like this. it made me see the color orange for some reason.
ReplyDeleteI read your comment first, so all I could see the whole poem was the color orange. Orange wine-bar, gold-tinted prosecco in gold candlelight, orange glowing fire, orange-scented cologne, and orange skin.
ReplyDeleteBah! Biased reading!