Her city's wine:
Bitter but sweet.
Under the darkness
and under bed sheets.
The scent of cigarette smoke.
The sound of heart beats.
Sore lips, smooth, soft.
They say,
"That which starts bitter
ends sweet."
But that goes both ways.

And that wine:
Sweet but bitter.
A cruel mistress.
Covered in glitter,
glowing, shining
under bright neon lights.
Floating up
and away:
High like a kite;
And leaving, disappearing
gone
into the blackness
of the cold
starless night.