I would love to sit with glasses of wine and you
if for no other reason than to study your face,
no other reason than to drink your idle patter
into lips languid lips while you go on amusing.
Say what you will, I'm in a you adoring mood-
each little stridency, each charming blush, excitedly
brought forth by the ruby rush of warming Malbec
only serving to hasten my silly dreams still within.
I will listen to your words of course all in course,
all but totally slayed, your face flush with beauty.