Rosé by Kathryn Hegarty
The thin label of mesmerizing typography, almost torn off,
has been stroked many more times than one.
The open glass bottle, of a cerulean tint,
tempts me with its fragrance.
Silent juice erupts into a bouquet complete
Wood textures and fruity features tease the tongue.
A cascade of passionate remembrance follows
Dancing persists, words slide, bodies merge
The small cork cap is placed back atop its perch.
Tomorrow I shall play this tune again.
