Red Rhythm

keep the red coming until the last
d                                                         d
r                                                          r
i                                                          o
p                                                         p
falls from the emerald bottle into
my glass and a buzz is humming
through my veins and moving
me to the beat of this god
awful music I can’t
even drunkenly
pretend
to
know
the
words
to.
My
eyes
lock
with
yours
over
the brim of my glass
and as we dance… the music grows on me.