Stella Rosa

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Sweet taste of berry
melt in pink potion
spilling over
a lady in red
bathed in
bubbly splashes
of Stella Rosa.

Her head begins to spin,
her heart is at a whim,
of the man in black
tuxedo with a red rose
tied on his clothes
as he unscrews
the cork placed
on a waterfall of
pink wine.

Water into wine,
the glass pours
and pours
like a miracle
of Jesus on
a wedding day,
a splash of Stella Rosa,
for the lady in red.

Sweet as a berry
her lips lock
and release
with a pop and
squeeze of
the cork
flying like
a flamingo
in migration.

On one leg
she stands
as a ballerina,
her wings to
her sides
and the world
spinning but
she is
a flamingo
with balance
but the bubbles
pop in her hop.

She flips and flops,
a drunkard falling
for a man in black,
and she, a lady in red
stained in Stella Rosa,
praying for water
to turn into wine.

A miracle
of the divine
to have a
sweet burst
of red
between lips
parting
and turning
a woman
into a
makeshift queen.

“Sei, la stella
del mio cielo.”
(You are the star
of my sky)
the man in black
whispers in her ear.

The wine tastes
like melted stars
on her tongue
and the sky
is the bottomless
pit of her heart
drunk on
Stella Rosa.

 

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