L’ame du vin

The singing soul of this red wine won’t leave the shapely glass
No matter how big my gulp, her pure soul rests, contented
Her music notes ricochet around the frosted vessel
I place my ear to the opening and let the waves of sound
Splash me with the echo.
The second transcription of her beautiful song
No more wine in the bottle.
No more lubricating liquid to grease our jaws for
Conversation, consummation, intoxicated as we ever were
Singing wines beautiful words
But the lyrics fall flat and joyless
Onto the shredded neurons of my shards of brain
Striving so hard to coagulate
Amongst the other living corpses
Devoid of souls, and full of sounds.

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