August 2: Poetry Stained (Not my best effort, but at least I tried... 😄)

I don't think I would say
That your poetry stained me.
I would say, rather,
That it left an indelible mark.
These phrases may sound synonymous,
But they are not.
It is the difference between spilling wine
And drinking a glass you never forget.

And the poetry your soul speaks leaves a permanent stain on my senses.
You’ve been there.

Poetry flows from your body like wine - sweet, dark, and intoxicating. There are no dregs here, only a never ending thirst for more.

Just sayin'😘

Mmm, I like..

Hmmmmmm.....