STEVE SCAFIDI

The Wine

As the bloom
  of the crocus

cuts the noose
  of winter away

so together
  in bed after

fighting hard
  in their usual

separate way
  she lifts—

knowing he likes
  this—the red

wine-colored
  nipples

of her breasts
  one at a time

in the spinning
  house

to the warmth
  of her mouth.    

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   Contributor’s notes

   The Cavalry
   The Gentleman
   The Pages
   The Parade
   The Wine

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