Wine.

Published December 19, 2014 by shreyarvj

The bottle of wine sleeping on my chest,
With the lid open, flowing and pouring,
On my flesh, near my heart,
Droplets soaking the white cloth and
Dripping on the red buttons slowly.
And with each falling drop,
My heartbeat stops,
Because the wine is almost over
Reminding me of my imaginary lover.

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15 comments on “Wine.

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