As I walk through the vineyard, I can't help but be reminded of your green smoldering eyes caressing my body. Your touch is so exquisitely delicate and full of infinite passion. I daydream of the next time your arms are around me, crushing me in a warm embrace.
I hear voices in the distance; the moans increase to a crescendo.
"Marta . . ."
"John . . ."
Recognizing your voice, I quietly walk down the path and peer through the vines. Yours eyes meet mine; her eyes also.
I whisper . . . "How could you?"
I run through the green haze and collapse in despair.
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