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Tenant Dec 2019
the symposium
Looking at my own reflection
Love loves in refraction
staring at images

I'm falling asleep to you in the night
Love's incalculable
The forms of beauty fill the void
where nothing becomes actual.
Actual.
Searching what can be held on to.

what is unlimited?
What won't leave me?
Don't leave me.
Every time I have a symposium
Following a banquet
With my muse
I start with three libations
With the best lychee wine I can get
From Mauritius !
The first is to her eyes
The second is to her lips
The third to Venus.
Then I spread the floor smeared with wine
With vanilla perfumes and jasmine flowers
While the moon is playing a tune on her flute of Pan
Then it's  time to sing a hymn
And only after all this ceremony and ritual
When the symposiarch says : "drink !"
And the symposiasts  start to drink
and be drunk
the symposium is declared open,
Only then,
we can start our tête-à-tête.

— The End —