Spartacus, grant me a wish.                  In a world of pale neutrals,
give me the kiss of a new light.            The fruitful lips placed so
gently on my largest vein,                     rushing life blood thru my
body to my brain and                             heart again; pulsating
rhythm in my chest.                               Please grant my request.

The honey gold drip:                             a warm thick gift from the
universe's infinitely expanding            infinitely collapsing pieces.