Persian Wine

Unripe grapes ripe in my mouth
when you kiss me
and the vine of your tongue
fructify directly
in the pitcher of my intoxication.

You flower on my skin when you touch me
And the hindsight runway you leave on my senses
Is the stencil on the butterfly wings.

After a while
the sugar stop bursting in my mouth,
tastes and colours all are mashed on our colourless mouths.
and grapes ferment their sweetness to dry

But this
chewed and licked away gum
yet tastes more divine
tastes
like
Persian wine.