Fine Wine

She anticipated seeing him
More than she had anyone
In a very long time
Their plans for dinner
And some conversation
Definitely requiring her
To drink a glass
Of fine wine, or two
For she was surprisingly
Still nervous around him
Her normally chatty self
Oddly shy in his company
And her spirit still prone
To running when
The stakes got high
Steeling herself now
Not to repeat the mistakes
Of her past, despite
Feeling strangely fragile
And a bit frightened
Though she was positively
Excited by him, probably
The most exquisite man
She’d ever found
More delicious
And intoxicating
Than any fine wine

If only she could
Trust him

One Comment

  • JorgeXNono commented on November 14, 2016

    Great post.

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