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i pour myself a glass of dark red wine -
sanguine liquid rushing through my veins,
a forceful repeating desire for closure
in a pumping casket, endorsing how
you pour me another glass of red wine.
i use it to quench my heedless thirst;
my fingers wrap around its solid base
and so my mouth swallows it whole.
perhaps i am one wild animal
and no manners are thus needed;
dripping from the corners of my lips
is residue of the love liquid.
your wet words wipe my face clean,
racing their way to my exposed neck;
a punctured trail flows with red wine
so you savour it right off my skin.
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YOU ARE READING
rings of moonlight // poetry collection
Şiir[in progress] --- some are memories, some are dreams, some are everything and nothing. all come from the heart and all are nsfw. --- all illustrations done with: https://bugulet.github.io/lively-brushes/index.html
