Forgotten memories swill into happy minutes,
White, red, white, red, red,
Wine is good for your heart,
Though it drives the blood right to the walls of my mind,
Leaves me on stilts.
Wine and a bath,
Like you ran me once,
Smiling through your teeth.
Wine is fine.
Spicy. Oak on the nose.
The ache in my jaw deep now, like a shot of adrenaline, on the cold street holding a phone to my ear as you speak emotionlessly: ‘I can't’
Swill it. Earthy and dark.
The ache so deep now the blood has made it to my teeth.
Tip the glass high. That last drip fills the space.
Another glass. Just one more.