XLIX. – The Poison
Wine can often redress the most
sordid dive
With its miraculous luxury and
re-invigorate,
More so than any fabled gateway,
Through the alchemy of its
reddish vapour
Like a Sun setting in the
nebulous sky.
Opiates can broaden the expanse
of any borders,
Further infuse the unlimited,
Deepen time, aid the voluptuary,
And further enhance the dark
and mournful pleasures
Which the soul mirrors at full
capacity.
But all of this is nothing
compared to the poison which flows
From your eyes, your emerald
eyes,
Those twin lakes which further unhinge
one…
Causing my dreams to escalate in
a screaming riot
To desalinate the bitter gulfs
which encroach.
Again, all of this is nothing to
the atrocious prodigy
Of the saliva parting from your
lips,
Through your parting kiss, remorselessly
Infecting to the point of a
hallucinatory vertigo
The defective roulette played
out on this tide of Death.
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