Cerebral Cabernet
I enjoy looking at you. It sits on my desk, the picture of you
smiling in Napa with a glass of Cabernet in your hand.
I am captivated by the redness from the grapes glossing on your lips
and the dimple in your right cheek. So happy and relaxed,
sitting with your friends, reminiscing over wine.
I know you don't think so, but I catch you in this end to end smile
quite a bit. When I do, my mind cross references back to that
photograph that I've saved as some kind of cerebral metafile.
I'm not sure why the constant denial of happiness, but the photo
is evidence to the contrary. As are my memories and general telepathy.
Sometimes you kiss me with those cabernet lips making my heart race
like an Indy car on a dry May track. Later my mind will still taste the grapes
that you've left on my lips. This union of heart and mind, telepathy and
memory, makes me believe... call me romantic
in a modern society.
Written 6/96
Copyright 1996 RFA