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.