Silk & Wine

Wintry skies,
And wooden tables,
While all the land
Was covered with white lies.

She came in,
With the cold,
In a black coat,
As I wrote of old loves.

She was the perfect size,
Dressed to the nine for coffee.
With dark hair,
And in one look,
I knew she was wiser than I.

My hands stopped,
Because the words did too.
All I could think,
After the woman walked in
Were ways to make her mine.
That train was empty,
Except for the cabin

filled with nothing
except,

silk and wine.


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