Three shades of red

lipstick on glass

The next day after wine
coagulated in the bottom of the glass
the smell of it
my lipstick at the rim, smeared
and you, nowhere to be found

Somewhere in the middle of a waning moon
and an angry red sun, I lost you
distracted by dreams
succumbing to sleep
I could not find you when I woke

Like errant glasses or keys
I looked where I last saw you
the stain on my bed, unsettling
until I remembered Merlot at 2 a.m.

You, waxing long about your causes
the president you adored
and the one you would have
strung up if you could

And I was picturing you
with a boat beneath you
sailing and happy, and
when the water came up
to the sheets
I drifted off


**Photo from Holiday Wine Tips


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