Remember the shuttering passion
like lightening screaming through our skin?
Those days clear as Holy water
slide softly into my mind, slipping away
only when my reluctant eyes close in darkness.
We said forever, forever is soon, too soon.
I love you like the bells of Le Kremlin
Sunday mornings and French music.
The vineyards have never been this fragrant.
We have always been Sauvignon Blanc sweet.