When I taste wine
I taste your soft lips
When I feel my sheets
I feel your rhythmic hips

When I play soft music
I hear your quiet whisper
In the dim light of dusk
I trace the curves of your figure

In our habit of silence
Pierce unspoken splinters
All is well on the surface
Below the root withers

We drift along slowly
A shallow river of wine
The shoreline grows nearer
All things end in their time