Luna Vines
I want a drunk moon
one entirely at home
in a glass of golden wine.
Let evil be forever sober,
wine hydrates reality,
a dead moon bloom's
in small cups of tipsy poetry.
I want to rest my eyes
in a winding river of moonlight,
let the madmen thunder and rail,
my peace booms above
their loudest shouts.
I used to be a tomcat,
I made love to my animal nature,
I used to spit at the moon,
that grey orb so utterly buried
under trash heaps of saccharine lyrics.
Now I am drunk,
for love drinks me down.
Within the velvet closets
of moonlit nights
love comes to me,
then we drink,
to all the easeful drunks,
here on the rim and lip
of paradise.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2024
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