Sitting on the park bench
With legs neatly crossed
She sat, lips slightly parted


They were damp
Bright with a deep hue
A wildflower in full bloom


I imagined they were sweet
Ripened plums
Fresh from the tree


Sticky and juicy
Dripping down my arm
I close my eyes


Dreaming of purple and reds
A glass of perfect red wine
I slowly part my lips.