Full on wine and rest
So unbecoming of an Knight Errant.
And yet, the cool...
that sweet aroma of crisp evening air as it
rustles the drawn curtain.
Something indescribable in the lingering,
The way it pulls up spirit from its coil,
How the body yearns for silence from its
every pulse and beat,
For just a second more of bliss,
Under the embrace of the night cool.