First sip, warm sunshine.
Drawn from love, a tender breast,
A sleepy, peaceful, infant rest.

Milk sweet wine,
Years blurred, a fading line.
Old age now, a hazy gaze,
Lost in a forgotten daze.

Milk sweet wine,
Life's journey, intertwine.
Still drinking deep, though senses sleep,
A final toast, secrets to keep.

A rhythm stirs, a whispered plea,
When hands entwined with you and me.
He dances, swift and light and free,
A language spoken, wild and glee.

Uncommon words, a vibrant hue,
His movements paint a canvas new.
From sheltered arm, a gentle shove,
He lifts me high, to realms above.

A fluffy cloud, a soft embrace,
Where sunbeams fade, and shadows chase.
And then, the heavens weep in tears,
Black rain descends, dispelling fears.

Within my eyes, the torrent falls,
A cleansing shower, soothing calls.
He carries me, a fragile thing,
Where joy and sorrow softly sing.

Through swirling mists, and skies so vast,
He holds me close, a cherished cast.
A whispered promise, soft and low,
Where love resides, and shadows flow.

The white shirt whispers secrets low,
Of curves and shadows, soft aglow.
A hint of blush, a tender plea,
For lips to find what eyes can't see.

Red paint upon a whispered vow,
Invites a touch, right here and now.
A promise held in crimson bright,
A burning ember in the night.

Dark lines frame a gaze so deep,
A siren's call that lulls to sleep.
A hunger stirs, a wicked game,
Where souls are lost and hearts aflame.

No words exist to paint the sight,
Of fabric clinging, dark and tight.
A silent language, bold and bare,
A challenge whispered on the air.

Her voice, a flame that dances high,
Demands surrender, makes you sigh.
A circus trick, a burning grace,
Leaving ashes in its place.

I knelt, compelled by burning need,
To beg for pain, to plant the seed.
No choice, perhaps, or maybe yes,
To taste the fire, to confess.

My lord, pluck out my eyes, for I have seen,
A world of dazzling light, a cruel, bright sheen.
My ears, deaf now, to all the melodies,
For I have listened to the serpent's lies.

I've sinned, my lord, and loved the gilded lie,
And hated truth, with a contemptuous sigh.
A vision fair, a wonderment of sight,
Her song, a siren, stealing all my light.

She sings, and I, am captive to the sound,
My soul adrift, upon a treacherous ground.
Quoth I, a fool, entranced by her sweet grace,
Lost in her beauty, in her alluring space.

So, pluck my eyes, and seal my listening ear,
For in this world, I fear, I cannot steer.
From truth's embrace, my heart has turned away,
And now I crave the darkness, come what may.

You say you love me
yet the question lingers like incense in a ruined temple.
Tell me, why, oh why?

I carved your name into the bark of an ageless tree,
and the tree whispered it to the winds of eternity.
You traced mine upon a passing shore,
and the tide erased me before the gulls had seen.

The rains fall, bearing stories wounded by time;
your name glimmers through their tears,
while mine dissolves into silence.

I spoke of you to neighbors,
and their lamps burned brighter.
You spoke of me to water,
and the river carried me away.

At night, beneath the hidden star,
they gathered to tell your story.
My shadow passed among them,
but no one called my name.

I held the rose you gave me,
pressed it into scripture,
hid it beneath my pillow as though it were prayer.
I gave you a vessel to hold my soul,
and you let it shatter into dust.

And still you say:
“I love you beyond all speech.”

If love is so vast,
why do I stand nameless at its gate?
Why do you love me?
Tell me, why, oh why?

She says, "All men betray,"
a curse she hurls away.
Not every soul she's known,
but one made grief her own.

He was her single light,
her moon against the night.
He cracked trust’s fragile seam,
and "all" became her scream.

One minute after midnight,
I stumbled out of the pub.
A young woman blocked my way.
“Stop,” she said.
“Yes, dear,” I answered.
Then she told me,
“I think you’re the one my heart wants.”
I grinned,
“Look behind you.”
She turned.
I added,
“See? That proves I’m not the one.”
And I kept walking,
thinking maybe it wasn’t wisdom at all
just the whisky talking.