Eyeing Me Avidly Over the Brim

A prose poem: ‘bring in some food’

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

Yes, yes, I’m sure some other girls are honeyed white wine — let’s say for specificity sake a sweet Riesling or a syrupy Muscato, crisp on contact but easy to swallow as the twilight tumbles on & the light disassembles into shades of pomegranate or plum