This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Texas chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
I am born from the fruit of madness.
My distant relative claims to have twisted even Eve and Adam, but I know better
And I am revered.
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Humans fashioned ancient gods out of my allure—
They tasted my gift of insanity and glut for more!
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White like the sick,
Rosé like the rush of passion,
Red like their cheeks or the paint of their lips.
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I laugh as they seek my caress late in the night,
Happy celebration or sad plight,
I savor each bitter and sweet with delight.
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Wine