brunchfaced
smoothly,
with some thoughts,
I kissed your mild summer wine
and I sank
in its orbit, at once
a yore playful cicatrix
got cured,
as if the happiness I looked for
was hidden
through its chalice
yet, if you feel me
all around you,
as if you'd breathe what I breathe,
don't get brunched
by yourself
wait for the call
of my thoughts
by kissing a delicate summer wine
to get you to sink
in the orbit where I am