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Mar 2013
This bottle,
its bones creak
like mine
with each step,
from here and there
and back again.
No matter the sweet
alcoholic chatter,
even upon a third leg
with every guzzle.
Amidst each passing,
euphoric hour
our bones connect
it, me,
together becoming one
with dear life
as we,
both tenderly age
the same,
within a release
of a ******
intimately graced,
aboard the confines
toted highly
ascension into,
a solemn
intoxicated heaven.
Mirrored in sweet
delectable togetherness
interwoven tightly
of harmonious,
chardonnay shadows...

Β©Michael P. Smith
Michael P Smith
Written by
Michael P Smith  Atlanta, Georgia
(Atlanta, Georgia)   
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