Wine (A Definition)

Like an aged bottle of wine hidden inside the dusty drawer
I have never meant to label our union as a mistake
I only need a sip to cover my crave of your crisp kiss

Like the wildest plant slithered in my secret vineyard
I preserve you lush and bold
The way your absence bewilders my infatuation

Our connection is a narrow passage which divides our backyards into two
We trek along the path once in a weekend
Leaving no trails in weekdays
I define your love as not quite yet love
As it is brief and passable
The same way my kiss runs from your lips and hide along your jawline, shy

I am trying to believe that it has always been consent
Like the way I steal a forbidden taste of fruitful dark elixir from the aged bottle inside the drawer
I am not sure what I fear
I am not sure if I can trust you
Nor I am sure I can trust myself
Nor I am sure if any moral chains has entangled itself away from forgiveness I have made to myself

Everytime I am with you
I wish I was drunk
But I have never been drunk enough
As my eyes were open
My mind was sober enough to listen to your pounding heartbeat when I rested against your chest
My cheek collided with your skin that was never quite warm, but heated
And, I absorbed all the rising temperature with my body alone

You made sure that we are not going to make love
Like I did not understand in the first place
I agree, we never made love
We are not going to either


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