The wine-glistened lips meet in our kiss.
I run my tongue along the glass
Pursuing each drop, each phoneme
For another shade of meaning
To unfold in this taste I desire.
A fine distillation: each nuance,
Each gesture, each half-smile
Condensed to feed my addiction;
Words mean only what we bring.
Do we share the same dreams?
I drink her words in, savor the sounds
Roll them around, feel their fit,
And wonder how much more can there be?
What exactly was it she said to me?