Saturday, 22 December 2012

Raspberry Wine

My friend was on the bed

with his friend,

not her boyfriend,

when his Dad opened the door

and announced, 'no, she's not deformed'

to no one in particular.

Somehow I remember this

from inside the room.

Though I must have been downstairs

drinking raspberry wine,

to see someone spill theirs

and him scrubbing

the champagne coloured carpet.

His Mum said the raspberry wine

had all gone

and gave us something clear

that tasted like vinegar.

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