|We drank wine in the summer of our affair,|
an expensive peachy chardonnay, out of
mismatched glasses from a second-hand store.
It was just like us, pretending to be "people-
who-drink-wine-in-the-evening," watching sunsets
from my new apartment's cracking balcony.
We avoided truth, pretending many things:
that we could afford to be so leisurely,
that I was happy with my job, with this town,
that you could be happy at all, here with me.
But on nights we shared wine, we pretended we
could afford to laugh at the world together
the sound bouncing off the walls of the alley.
|Text Flow is a forum in which young writers and artists can showcase their talents. To submit work for consideration, please e-mail text to firstname.lastname@example.org or mail slides/transparencies/digital artwork to: Wine X Magazine, 4184 Sonoma Mountain Road, Santa Rosa, California 95404. Slides/transparencies will be returned. DO NOT email images.|
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