...in velvet and languor

And so I sipped the mead

for it had been too long   since

I stained a page   with wine

drunk on the juices I dipped my bread in

sweeter than the vintage at my lips

to that, then, is my fate?

entertaining a muse   or three

to come to death by?

or one of a similar wrinkle

to roll around on the toungue

to feel oneself

break upon, one last time.

And so I sipped the mead.

Dionysus, my love, may your desire

form you corporeal,

for I go to seek you in the streets.

Come to me there, 

I will remind you why ~