Updated: Aug 4, 2020
Wine After Sex
As we come to a collapse from the ultimate level of explosive connection, wiping off the sweat, smearing ‘round the juices on our bodies, we push closer for one heated, final embrace with our fingers, legs, lips and souls interlocking.
We again see the light of day and I watch you drape your towel around your waist, droplets of salt still framing your face.
The sound of the shower turning on as the door closes behind you in a silent shutter and I reach out to touch the space where you just laid.
I wander slowly to the kitchen, my legs trembling and my gaze soft.
I pour myself a glass of wine.
The initial sip of this red blood tastes much like you; deep, tantalising and familiar.
I play with the juice in my mouth, letting it find its way into each crevice of me, like you had, only moments ago.
I close my eyes to revisit each movement, the sound of each breath, the feeling of your hair in my hands and quiver merely from the image of us living in the highest powers of nature.
I know now how much a heart can scar from love so deep and passion so heated.
Feelings of gratitude rinse over me while I come to study your silhouette as you rinse me off you, just a few feet away.
Photo: James Harris, Grit Images Co
FaceTime Photo Shoot, Finland / Qatar