As fine wine in a glass
She laid still on his chest
He could smell
The fragrance of her hair
And his tongue
Could sense her sweetness
Together they were
In this vineyard
She was his grapes
He was her gardener
He kept her
And she gave him
balanced liquor
Love so concentrated
He got drunk in it
And just as a flea
She couldn’t stop clinging
On his nerves.

Author: sander_ochy

I am a journalist, a poet, a spoken word artist, a writer, and performer. Life is all I write about. #Freeverse254

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: