MeandYou

The red wine,
Brushing against your unpainted lips,
Is my favorite part of the night,
Where we stay in and unplug the phone,
Grab strings and bows and places,
Music pushing out and over the balcony,
Spilling down the building and out the alley,
When our eyes aren't closed and wrapped in,
They meet in long sure vibrations,
Dancing while standing still,
This is why we survived this long,
This is how we were found,
This is meandyou.