Luisa Machielse

Luisa Machielse wine, or not to wine.... by the poolside perhaps? Wine not - take the plunge. Leave Orange, follow the Red, White, Pink, Purple, Ruby, Garnet from the New World to an Old. See how they do it - swirl it - slurp it - spit it - swallow it on the other side. Upside out, inside down. Stay, go but wait, and wait some more, then certainly nothing will happen. Let it be free, they say. If it's meant to be, it will come back. If not, you're the sucker who believed in it in the first place. Move on. There will be more. Plenty more, they say. Better quality, more complex and bold; fuller bodied, if you prefer, or partial to a bit of herbaceous frolicking in straw...? You never know unless you try, they say... and never judge a wine by its label, they say.  Move on quickly but deep down you know it will be slow... ever so painfully slow to get over the first love, the first taste, the secret affair, that one-sided part-time love that leaves you dazed and confused but always coming back for more... and as we choose our parting ways, turning our backs forever on each other, do me one last little favour: Cry me a river...cry me a river... - or just a pretty fountain streaming out of your eyes. Let me catch your tears in my wine glass one last time, let me swirl them around and around, giving the precious liquid a chance to breathe, to open up, to reveal what you really wanted to say to me, then let me drink them down, drink them down until the last drop finally makes me understand. When I give my heart, it will be forever...My funny Valentine, you were my favourite work of art...Does it make sense? Does it need to?

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