Salamanca Red.

by November 28, 2013 0 comments

Boiler kicks in.
Unpleasant chill gone.
Dark blood red and soon right!

Spiders that creep me out raise dust across my name
and move to darker spots.

I need love,
kisses around my neck.
Hope from the dark.

Light flickers above my head
The searching hand finds my warming body.
Uncertain we climb the wooden steps.

A gentle screw, ardently turned, pierces my heart.
I explode, gushing over a tired glass.

Alone, she sips from me and rubs her eyes again.
Shrunken heart by a bedroom door.

A long way from the sun kissed vines of Salamanca
we cry together.

© 2013

editors note:

A vintage red whine to quaff and quell a cold lonely togetherness. – mh

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