You are Wine from the Cask!
Siddiq, you know you are wine from the Cask,
the purest kind they store for ages underground.
I can’t imagine any better way for grapes to ferment
than your voice in my ears.
Wine that smells of lilac when I rest my head
on my pillow to sleep. I dream of bruised foisons,
and taste bursting grapes on my tongue.
You surround me, and I become high with this
craving. You know this.
So, you smile at me.
I can’t make sense of this harvest,
there was a drought and then you
came raining champagne.
To my amazement, like a gift–
A parcel you unwrap slowly,
I don’t even want to crumple the
Wine leaves people drunk
but I don’t drink.
Sipping your smile,
I weave unsteadily,
I think I may be drunk!
Good heavens, I think
I may be drunk!
And like waves of sultry, molten,
new brews you engulf me and
swallow me like the ocean.
How do you do this?
You are a mystery,
and you know ALL of my secrets.
How did you get them out of me?
I think you make me high,
like helium, floating with laughter,
mouth kissing promises.
You make me undress my armor
and lay down my sword
for a cool drink of your advice.
I think you are making me high!
I’m drunken, weaving ss’s in the street
sibilant and hungry for you.
For the clarifying touch of your fingers,
has made me high!
I will teach you to dance to every song, my love,
for you have made me find my voice,
and sigh with joy…
Warbling delight, late at night.
