Jan 11
1 min read
Red Wine
A prose poem about insecurity in romance.
I bought a bottle for the both of us
but your throat is never as dry;
you never so thirst as I,
sitting across from your roaming gaze.
Don’t you want some?
Just a taste?
--
I don’t have the answer, but I have experiences and would like to share them with you, but will you share yours with me?
