Em uma osteria romana, de Carl Bloch
Red wine is like a friend. It establishes a bond of coexistence, tranquillity and fraternization.
I raised his voluptuousness, and you, you chose a fresh white wile steeped in your manias.
You drank two in a row, deceived by the heat. You had not felt the freshness of citric acid in your mouth, nor its ardour.
Red wine needs time to taste, to conquer the throat, with its deep aromas that last to the infinite of the soul. Mine, accompanied me through the night, entwined in my hand, releasing his body to my passion.
You stumbled towards the car, you didn't know where you were going. If it weren't for the excitement of my senses, perpetuated by the tannins, I would be disoriented, unable to function.
Along the way, you revealed a thousand things lost in the alcohol swirling around your head, like in the rings around Saturn.
Red wine incorporates conversations in its composition - it's space, it's all possibilities.
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