Bubbles upon my tongue delight dances and skittish feet,
Red, and nightly dark evening color of cold, of which metal my lips did meet.
Refreshing sigh, ah, what wonders delight me so,
Bursts of flavor and triumph hit my senses fighting. Tis a taste war in the Alamo.
Sensation fulfilled, comfort hidden deep inside, wrapping summer memories in a fairy tale cloak.
What wonder can spoil a teenage damsel in distress nothing better than a winter ice cold coke.
