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