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My senses draw in the waft of an almost sweet wooden flavor.

 I can barely breathe until the cool rim of the glass touches my quivering lips; waiting for that moment.

The moment when the cold, velvety flavor of sensual sweetness caresses my lips and engulfs my whole mouth.

The gift of the Gods washes down my throat.

My eyes close as it leaves me with a warm rush that reaches my chest and ensnares me with a burst of magic with every sip.

A first kiss with every touch of my lips...

A kiss of Chardonnay.

1 comment:

  1. Great thoughts woven with great words .. Awesome piece :-))