Memories do not keep

These memories taste cold,

sickly sweet and thick;

opaque like red wine,

muted and sharp –

daggers in the drink,

in smiles, in falsely promised

next times – stained purple teeth,

the deep rivulets in your lips,

a grimace

as you sup and sip

on this feast of ruined nostalgia –

memories laid out to eat,

memories which wouldn’t keep.



In response to August 9th: red wine, #rainasmprompts

Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Available internationally

7 thoughts on “Memories do not keep

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