It waits in the drawer,
a spiral of patience,
metal glint tucked among
the scatter of spoons.
Lifted, it feels heavier
than its size should allow,
a small machine of insistence,
hinged for descent.
The point finds its mark,
presses into the cork’s skin,
and the spiral begins its slow
burrowing, grain against grain.
The spiral burrows deeper,
metal teeth worrying the grain,
until the neck loosens,
a faint tremor at the rim.
Glass waits, taut with silence,
then yields—an opening
that breathes without announcement,
its throat bare to the air.
On the table, the bottle leans,
shadow stretched like a question,
while the cork, stunned in its release,
rests in the palm, still warm.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 16th, 2025 05:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Tristan Robert Lange

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Comments5
Inviting and alive this poem in its literal sense brings anticipation to the tongue. But I in my constant wandering metaphor mind sense another perfume and aroma. This very well might be a very sensuous and even sexual poem of seduction and coitus but I think it could also be more. The tool of penetration of a corked bottle that holds treasure in the body of a mind. To extract the cork it must be not direct but convoluted twisting its way in opening the mind to the vintage of years and giving air to its vintage, allowing it to be partaken by those around it. Sorry Cryptic for such a twisted view of a cork screw.
When we get down to it, βscrewβ has quite a convoluted history and dynamic of usage. And βcorkβ itself has its own morphological drama and connotations to deal with. A mighty language we live in and with! ππ»ποΈ
It may start with the corkscrew, but that's only the beginning of the sensual journey the couple hopefully take.
Now, is it red or white.
Red mostly, but there is time to go through both! ππ»ποΈ
A corking good write A.
Just glad it isnβt conking outππ»ποΈ
Cheers and good health to you Rik, mine is a Rioja.
Andy
Cheer, Andyππ»ποΈ
My friend, this whole piece moves with such controlled intimacy...the weight, the slow descent, the breath of the bottle, the warm cork in hand. You turned a simple act into a quiet revelation. Loved this. πΉπ€ππ―οΈπ¦ββ¬
Donβt you just love it when there are quiet revelations in our reading! ππ»ποΈ
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