Posted in writing


It’s a deep, unctuous red; the epitome of sexy. You see it in all the movies. It seems it was something she had practiced.

Taking a seductive sip of her Merlot, a print clung to the glass, almost the same color of the contents.

The night begged to conclude, a few drinks later. She wanted the opposite. Pulling at my tie, I was lured in. I was met with the waxy taste of her pigment. Fake.
Failing to resist, I stopped to consider that for the moment, I didn’t need the real thing.


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