feet against faucet 

steam rising, hair streaming

away from the vineyard

our dual ripenings,

skin turning flush 

like the ghost 

glasses of wine 

once swirled inside.

the nights before 

         lackadaisical, 

         roaming the vineyards 

         the pensive darkness 

broken by glittering 

planes,

the tight fog 

silence wrapped 

around the grape vines. 

one glass, 

ten glasses 

the wind quickening 

through winding hills. 

      memories, lose me. 

      the parking lot, 

      clothes strewn, 

a hand imprinted 

my face 

to the car glass

forget this abyss. 

vino, vigna 

land of fantasies 

      up the stairs

      i drown 

      on the edge of a balcony