Swallow

Swallow,
You're desperate.
A sour face baked with tears.
Swallow,
You are pride
Like the juice of a dried apple,
Scratching its way down your throat.
So give into me.
The taste of salt, those melancholy tears.
The bitterness of your tongue,
the rough edges of your lips.
I want you in the midst of every morning glory
The way you feel after that last cup of red wine.
The alcohol that stains your breath,
the brushes your tongue.
Cause you are like snippets of a love poem,
Just cut out the wrong way.