"Under a single lamplight. In public or alone. Very late or very early."

Vino Tinto
by Sandra Cisneros

Dark wine reminds me of you.
The burgundies and cabernets.
The tang and thrum and hiss
that spiral like Epyptian silk,
blood bit from a lip, black
smoke from a cigarette.

Nights that swell like cork.
This night. A thousand.
Under a single lamplight.
In public or alone.
Very late or very early.
When I write my poems.

Something of you still taut
still tugs still pulls,
a rope that trembled
hummed between us.
Hummed, love, didn't it.
Love, how it hummed.