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Blood Red Wine (A Love STory)





From the first moment I was completely captivated by her; she was exquisite, perfect and beautiful. Beautiful woman have a quiet serenity, a floating, graceful confidence. I watched spellbound, drinking in her every move and gesture.

As I drank deeply of her, myriad rainbows flashed, scattering light over her long auburn hair, stars swirled in rolls of curls like a wild mane of fiery light dancing across buttermilk shoulders. I had become so enchanted by her that it became impossible for me to look anywhere in that vast gallery without finding myself constantly meeting her assured gaze.

We had met and fallen in love forever in that first exchange, in an instant, in the blinking of our eyes, without one word needing to be spoken. She filled my mind with only thoughts of her, she became my art, she became the music and the colour within every word I would write, every stroke upon every canvas.

Love, or more truthfully this love, became a new palette of hitherto unimagined colours. She wrote me as words in her story; she spoke of love, breathed life into my life. Her words lost to me as I swam in pools of darkest blue only midnight away. Floating in that darkness through the night of dancing dreams came the dawn that would toss us anew upon a golden shining shore. Breathing kisses wave over wave.

She poured wine, from a tall silver pitcher.

Sweet red

Blood red

Red

Red red wine


This post first appeared on Artyfartymanchesterman, please read the originial post: here

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Blood Red Wine (A Love STory)

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