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The Taste of Cherry Wine
She has claimed every part of me
From my heart to its vessels.
Everything about her commands attention
From the way air bows under her feet
To the way I write her name in bold
To the volume at which
she yells at me.
My veins will still run across my face
When she demands that I am hers
Reminds me with the kiss of her palm to my cheek.
I am clumsier with my words,
but the way it stings,
it seems like she knows
what she is doing.
I let her lead me in our little dance
Hand to face, palms to chest
Stepping with your left foot, then back again
You have hands like your brother and your father
But your arms are still yours
When you wrap them around me
And you constrict me into your chest
Promise you only got impatient
And won’t do it again
Your chest is cold when I press my face into it
And I hope, for a moment,
That you will.
When I speak of you, my tongue runs dry
But I will still shield you
From what you know you are
So others can see you like I always have
Kind, like I had first met you
With a kiss to the palm
A smile that hurt to look at.
And I will lie about the purple on my skin
And I will ignore the red in my heart
And all my nails are different sizes
I promise under strained breath,
“but I’ll keep breaking them off for you.”
--For there is no greater sin in life
Than the taste of cherry wine.
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A poem inspired by the contents of "Cherry Wine" by Hozier.