Sweet lips
You surprise me so.
Drenching thirst
Of liquid fire,
Paling savor;
How ironic you are!
Cooling brew of
Curled ashes
Stocked in my cupboard,
Tinned in foil
Twice round:
Donít you like it there?
Or would you rather
Occupy
My lonely soul
And longing eyes?
They see you
Whole.
They feel you
Contemplate.
Flavors of remorse,
Sin,
And ecstasy
Blending to completion
Once mingled.
Give me sight again
And again.

rjw, 7/5/87


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