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.