Marsala

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Whiskey runs through your haggard veins 
Your ashen face, still picturesque 
Framed by gallant waves 
Storm is raging, hush! 
Hold on to your glass
But you let it fall down your window pane. 
Why do you pull that dress down your thighs, after all this time 
Why do you grab a shawl to cover your breasts 
The night that fell upon your sensual face 
You kissed it fully, without another sigh
Let me remind you 
Of the palms that knew 
Your blissful cries & kindled hues
As the forget-me-nots woke with the drizzling drops
I was Rain, trying to open you.
Your eyes are worn out now
Your heart has sunk
The Marsala linen graces the floor
My greedy eyes linger, behind the door
All that is around us, is petrichor.

My needs are no different from the wrath of the storm 
Unfinished, Unfulfilled, Uncoloured 

But your darkest eyes seek something else 
And so I wrap myself up in our linen & drink whatever is left of you. 

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