Too Much Wine

Daybreak is the fresh notes 
that the piano's playing

Your husky murmur reminds me 
of last night's moon 
drunk on the sycamore tree

My fingers filter the light
combing through your soft lips
speaking of sweet lies
cultivated by the winemaker

Morning is the regret
that only the god of tomorrow
knows  

Published by

Cassa Bassa

๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ณ inquisitive, observant, witty, a thinker, was a misfitย child ๐Ÿ˜Š

13 thoughts on “Too Much Wine”

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