A Taste of Merlot

A Taste of Merlot
by Robin Scott Johnson
01-06-04

To observe her shape as she sits in my glass she is formless, moving and reshaping with every trepidatious moment and vibration. Her top flattens out and her bottom narrows down to a point above a stem like a flower, and an alluring aroma from her perfume wafts far above her to stimulate and excite my senses. I pick her up effortlessly and draw her to my lips, which open and let her in to the moist recesses of my mouth. She tastes of a fine old country vineyard's masterpiece, aged and matured to perfection as she hesitates and rolls over my tongue. Then the scent of her alluring perfume again stimulates my urges as her essence is mixed with my own juices in a symphony of intoxication and pleasure. Then I swallow this delicious spirit for which I have fallen in to a love which can be compared only with the danger and feistiness of a thousand Turkish whores.

This is a writing exercise, an original idea by me sitting in the foyer of the Madstone Theater in Chandler, Arizona.