nerves pulse as a result of hurling the half empty carafe to the ground,wine and passion dance abruptly along the faded hardwood and meet you at the door as you hike up your leather knee highs

curse the day you met me and catch your purse on the fine brass handle upon your exit

i grin momentarily

until i hear the finality of oak to frame connect, devastating as death letters

off to the kitchen for port and a corkscrew 

paper and ink