Aftertaste

for a time

i was your wine

 

at first young and fresh

and abundantly available

you wanted a dozen 

of this quirky Lambrusco

and I was delivered to your door 

 

but I wasn’t to your taste

you swilled me in your mouth

spun to glass rim

with subtle berry aroma 

abounding

and I 

stained your carpet

 

later…

 

bottles forgotten in attic dark

a seal cracked

from sentimental midnight lark

and in this first shadowed sip

a heavenly balsamic lust did spark

drizzled

and lingering

 

Tortured

disturb me not when I write

for I seek answers in the night time sky

between wisped clouds

that pass,

by and by

 

as moonlit parchment draws my quill

poised in shadow

trembling still

a cursive trail of sanguineous ink

tell me true

what dost though think

of these tortured, bloodied late hour pages ?

recounting anguish

on sordid stages

 

 

Image courtesy of M.Korlaet, my beloved sister. State of the art Cinematic rendering technique from a low energy CT Scan. Breathtaking.