← v11n2, Fall 2012
Poetry · Volume 11, Number 2

The Wine

As the bloom

of the crocus

cuts the noose

of winter away

so together

in bed after

fighting hard

in their usual

separate way

she lifts—

knowing he likes

this—the red

wine-colored

nipples

of her breasts

one at a time

in the spinning

house

to the warmth

of her mouth.