Slaked

It feels like you’ve been waiting a lifetime.

As you longingly look at her curves.

Soft music plays in the background

And the sky turns golden, orange, magenta, red.

You gently cradle her in your hands.

as you grasp your tool

applying ever so slightly the pressure

needed for the smallest puncture.

Then pressing harder, one, two, three, four

pulling back, and out, trying not to make a sound;

while she exhales and her scent fills the air.

You let her breathe; but

are poised, ready to slake your thirst.

The beauty flows into your glass

and you silently pray for forgiveness

for consuming the last of the Zin.

~ Amy Corron Power,
aka WineWonkette