Wine
Your words
That dance down my spine
In the crease of my neck
Your whisper
As cold as the glass piercing through my back
No,
Those are just your hands
Your hands
My eyes
Begging for your touch
Your fingers
As sharp as knives
Cutting through my skin
My love
In the palm of your hands
The grape vines sprouting from your lips
Wrap themselves around my neck
So sweet
So bitter
Like your empty promises
The wine trickling from your tongue
Spills onto my lap
Leaving a stain
The vine is not a vine
But a snake,
Swallowing everything I know
Poisoning everything I love
I try to escape
But I want to stay
You always knew how to leave a stain.
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