Redder-than-blood sangria
washed over a blood orange
which is too bright to be blood
As you took my glass from me
Our eyes met
A rolling curtain of smoke
danced in your face
blue and gray smoke swirled violently
I took my glass back
and it crushed in my hand
Expensive delicate crystal
A gift from a friend
who does not know the real me
Finally the sight of real blood
After a bottle and a half of fakes
You lit me a smoke
while I poured another
You with your smoke-
me with my blood-
And the moment passed like all of our best ones-
In silence
