Merlot noir

Just beyond the bruised lips of consciousness.
Jim Harrison

You were no gentleman – the impatient kiss
brusque and blooded shook me
far too far past trusting yet my bodyguard slipped
down the rabbit hole, bolted and left consciousness
on a thread between two worlds
the wine was the colour of blackbirds
and like some pantomine character, you appeared
in the mist as Merlin

to be continued…the poem must have lost consciousness as the poet was not quite ready for an ending  but am joining Jilly’s prompts from Jim Harrison for: Day 10 of 28 days of Unreason
~ and once more I wake to find myself in the pantry at Poets United