like my favourite wine
we grew sur lies,
and we grew stronger
with time
unlike my favourite wine,
I rested too long sur lies
then we grew too strong,
and started tasting
like the woods behind
your marital home
like my favourite wine
we taste great from a glass
and linger pleasantly
when we can
unlike my favourite wine
you lengthily linger these days
on my tongue, and my heart
but I can’t quite
swallow you whole, anymore
you’ve grown bitter
like my favourite wine
tonight, you’re in the city
and out of reach
from where I am . . .
and I’m kind of glad.