Sideways

You're such a cheater. The best wood in your golf bag is your pencil!

Pinot Noir country. My grape. The one varietal that truly enchants me, both stills and steals my heart with its elusive loveliness and false promises of transcendence. I loved her, and I would continue to follow her siren call until my wallet--or liver, whichever came first--gave out.

I forced a swift smile, then turned back to my glass, salvation and sanctuary viniferously bundled into one.

Maya, Indian goddess of illusions. Siren of shipwrecked sailors. If only you lactated Pinot Noir, you’d be perfect.

Palate properly whetted, I spelunked for her clitoris, tasting Bourgogne Rouge and Maya's body.