Merlot
Looking into the glass, blood without oxygen
It breathes into her face, it murmurs into her nose
Drying out the roof, then flooded with saliva
She swallows, feeling the staining on her teeth
Shortly following the bittersweet aftertaste
She folds in her lips, slithering her tongue in a single motion.
Swirling the glass, momentarily to scarlet
Transforming from impassive to intense
From lucid to opaque she is intrigued
She watches, mused by its revise and impressed by its force.
Taking another sip, crawling all over her taste buds
She waits until the sensation soars on top of her again.
Black lips and eyes that are glazed with thoughts of filth,
She takes her last sip and feels the last drop rest on her lip.
Sealing them, it bleeds between the two becoming thin and lost
Smiling revealing her smoky glass teeth to an empty room,
Studying the muddy fingerprints on the perfectly blown glass,
She sighs and has never felt more un-lady like.
By Jodie Cresswell
Sept 2009
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