he tastes
the pinot noir
on her lips
with a slow kiss
in the comfort
of a playful evening breeze.

we sing
silent velvet
melodies
with a chorus of
his neighbors and
the cars and the trees.

she points
to the people
coming home
from work or school
with dull pale fatigue
painted on each face

we laugh
at the white house
lazily leaning
to one side
directly across
the street from his place

she smells
the rich bouquet
of the wine
with one deep breath
and smiles as we
quietly define romance

he stares
inside her glass
as the sun sets
in the west
pushing orange light
to invite the red wine to dance.

we sit
on wooden steps
gazing into
each others’ eyes
there is nothing
we need to discuss

she pours
one more round
of earthy red
in both glasses
and with a clink
we toast to us.