Cabernet

Cabernet

A Poem by FoxandtheSword

Drinking her was like sipping fine wine,
Rich,
Sweet,
Savored bringing a gentle warmth in your throat,
Pulling him into an oblivion,
her velvet feel sliding over his mouth until the end,
leaving a lingering after taste,
 memories stained his lips,
and then he was left to wonder,
why the cheap bottles never tasted quite the same.

© 2018 FoxandtheSword


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Featured Review

Life is a cabernet, old friend...
I'm sorry. That just couldn't be helped.
Seriously, I liked your poem. and having grown up rich, then ending up poor, I do know the difference between expensive wines and Ripple...or even Boone's Farm.
I particularly liked the phrase 'memories stained his lips'.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Life is a cabernet, old friend...
I'm sorry. That just couldn't be helped.
Seriously, I liked your poem. and having grown up rich, then ending up poor, I do know the difference between expensive wines and Ripple...or even Boone's Farm.
I particularly liked the phrase 'memories stained his lips'.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on September 3, 2018
Last Updated on September 3, 2018
Tags: wine, love, memory, dark, aesthetic, poem

Author

FoxandtheSword
FoxandtheSword

About
Just someone with a lot of thoughts and very little room to share them and people to tell them to. more..

Writing