Olivia Chevron

Walking the Vineyards

I want to press my lips
Upon your softened brow.
To taste your saline skin
Smooth as the wines of Do.
 
I want to hold your hand,
Touch your hair, caress your face.
I want to drink of you.
In wine, a glass, a case.
 
I want to share my soul
And rest my weary head.
I want to spend the night
Upon your pillowed bed.
 
Sunday 23 April 2006

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Olivia Chevron.
Published on e-Stories.org on 04/25/2006.

 

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