tagNon-Erotic PoetryThe Night, The Smoke, and The Tawny Port

The Night, The Smoke, and The Tawny Port


There was a time when she and I
Drank our wine, danced naked there,
And hop-scotched kitchen tiles.

The kitchen air, spicy once,
That stirred our bodies fluid,
Fumes from chain-smoked cigarettes
And dinners long since ruined.

She in her kitchen, I in my den,
Light up again at one a.m.,
One with our tawny ports.

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bygreenmountaineer© 2 comments/ 2333 views/ 0 favorites

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