Call me yours…

Arrived heavy bunches of grapes eloquently stare at & nbsp; me from among the leaves. I carefully pluck them, trying not to hurt & nbsp; at least the berries of another's soul, and at home I'm already squeezing and squeezing the juice out of it, & nbsp; squirting in all directions. & Nbsp; , the sun & mdash; and the juice gurgled, rumbled, & nbsp; spoke, gurgled & hellip; Day, week, month, and there, look, and the wine & nbsp; survived, purified, brightened and became strong and fragrant. & Nbsp; I lose & mdash; and I remember every berry in particular, every stranger & nbsp; melody, every word that wandered, crystallized & nbsp; in the vessel of my soul and poured a gracious intoxicating drink on & nbsp; paper. & nbsp; Here I treat you to a fragrant drink, try & m; eat well & hellip;