Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash
Wine-drunkenness was
mistranslated into the
wrong sort of passion.
//
Fire in your belly,
you kissed me with your fists and
drove me to the earth.
//
Hot breath, wine-soured,
you blew rings of smoky air,
wove me a noose-wraith.
//
My words, water, tried
to soothe and quench, but instead,
wind-borne, fanned the flames.
///
About the Creator
Chloë J.
Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
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