Saturday, December 25, 2010

The Alembic



The Alembic


Soft hair
and humidity
trickled from his torso
to his belly button
as I moistened my lips.

When the fruit ripened,
he placed it in containers planked
with scented Spanish Oak
and covered with moss; export
that would later be distilled.

But to me Jerez
was not what gave him
the fragrance of Montilla,
it only forced me to savor
the memory of his abdomen.

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