Untitled [cherry wine knows no bounds]

Leave me a kiss in a glass of red; don’t ask me how 
and definitely not why, 
life seems hollow in the eyes, 
seems like it just can’t go by faster than  
need be, 
I am consumed by thoughts that sting and yet,  
life feels holy under the green– 
brilliant scarlet-orange flowers, 
they watch as vibrance is beaten out in seconds. 

Lost in his paintings and a new timeline, 
he sits brooding 
over breakfast in silence, 
blackberry bread and butter pudding, 
what could possibly go wrong, I thought 
as he steps into a sorrowful canvass 
with no color in eye, 
he teaches me not to believe in whispers  
and sighs that liberate. 
I absorb every mouthful without complaint. 

I walk a tightrope to prove how valuable I am, 
cut fragile roses  
but forget to deal with thorns, I bleed, 
I bleed with precision and begin to doubt; 
he smiles in response, 
the sky darkens and petals litter the ground. 

Cherry wine; we find ourselves filled with lies, 
while truth pounds on the door, unheard, 
a rouge imprint, 
broken promises on the glass,  
I leave them on the kitchen counter, who knows, 
maybe he will rinse them clean, 
he’s sweeter than solitude, chaotically concealed 
behind the waves, 
I swim, I swim without thinking twice; he 
doesn’t care, he is just being kind. 

 

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Loosely inspired by “CHERRY WINE,” written by Andrew Hozier-Byrne 🍒

Posted for “Two Opportunities to join us LIVE” @dVerse Poets Pub

18 Responses

  1. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) says:

    So much to like… bleeding with precision, and the way you use the swimming metaphor of something lost… wonder though it’s really kindness what he’s doing (or maybe not doing)

  2. I walk a tightrope to prove how valuable I am,
    cut fragile roses
    but forget to deal with thorns, I bleed,

    Gorgeous, Sanaa! <3

    Much love,
    David

  3. The lines David mentioned stood our for me, too–but also that “he” smiles
    “I walk a tightrope to prove how valuable I am,
    cut fragile roses
    but forget to deal with thorns, I bleed,
    I bleed with precision and begin to doubt;
    he smiles in response,

    That gave me the chills. Beautifully done.
    You always make me with laugh with your I have one exciting one and one not-exciting one. 😂

    • Sanaa says:

      Awwww gosh! Thank you so much, Merril 😀 it was a difficult task writing this one, so glad you liked it! 💄❤️

      PS: LOL I am glad I amuse you 😉

  4. dwight l. Roth says:

    I love the lines of broken promises being wiped clean from the dirty glasses on the counter. A great poem, Sanaa!

  5. Brendan says:

    How you love and live the high-wire of love. It does make for exhilarating poetry. “He’s sweeter than solitude, chaotically concealed / behind the waves, / I swim, I swim without thinking twice; he /
    doesn’t care, he is just being kind.”

  6. gillena cox says:

    “what could possibly go wrong, I thought
    as he steps into a sorrowful canvass
    with no color in eye, ”

    Who knows what the future brings except for of course change.
    Enjoyed hearing you read Sanaa.

    Much💖love

  7. I agree with Björn, so much to like.

    “blackberry bread and butter pudding,”🤤

    “I walk a tightrope to prove how valuable I am”💔

    “we find ourselves filled with lies,
    while truth pounds on the door, unheard”🙏🏼

    I’ve found myself in various relationships where we filled ourselves with lies and didn’t want to open that door.

    A very evocative poem.

  8. Gorgeous poem! I enjoyed it very much, an artist’s relation with his/her muse is a complicated affair.

  9. What a bitter-sweet poem, Sanaa! I was hooked immediately by ‘Leave me a kiss in a glass of red’ and drawn through the poem by your imagery. I enjoyed the use of colour in the lines:
    ‘life feels holy under the green–
    brilliant scarlet-orange flowers,
    they watch as vibrance is beaten out in seconds’
    and the tension expressed in the lines:
    ‘I walk a tightrope to prove how valuable I am,
    cut fragile roses
    but forget to deal with thorns, I bleed’
    and the ‘broken promises on the glass’ especially when the speaker leaves them on the kitchen counter with the telling aside ‘who knows, maybe he will rinse them clean’.

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