Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Love and Wine in the Afternoon

Rosalyn H. Marhatta

She traces the rim of the wineglass
with her index finger
feeling the tune it plays as the air shivers
around the table of sparkling expectations.

Tilting the glass to her lips,
she blows a melody into the red liquid of dreams
and stares across the table at him, watching
as he folds the napkin into his lap for the third time
to cover his thoughts
of her closeness
and what would happen after dinner.

He adjusts his collar and pulls at it
before he leans
into her aura
to touch the air closest to her with his lips
and feel the heat of her breath that shimmers with the scent of rose petals
and lemon drops.

Her eyelashes flutter like hummingbird wings
as she screens her emotions with the care of
a surgeon making his first cut.

Never the gambler, the wine emboldens her
and she throws her emotional dice
on the table and swallows the last of her reserve
before drinking in his desire
and tasting the wine of her future
after dinner.


DeadMule said...

I like the slow, careful pace of this poem. I like its romantic hints and restrained language of possibility. Helen Losse

Poetic_line said...

I always appreciate your comments. Thanks so much.


Cynthia Schuerr said...

I love the slow "come along with me" pace and the message, bold but only hinted.

Beautifully written, Rosalyn! Thanks for sharing.

ganymeder said...

Love the metaphors throughout. Lovely and sexy.

batchculture said...

Head agrees: Heart has to win. I love it!