dionysus

Melody Chen

when he first sees her, his lips are already stained
claret, from the scores of girls he’s drunk in tonight.
she serves her name to him in a crystal flute
all clinks and bubbles, and he tells her
he has never known one before.

i want to take her by the stem, say
woman, you have waited an eternity
oak and steel, to be kissed by a man
the right way, who swirls
twirls, legs dancing to all the right rhythms.

he has been waiting for a fruit like this
the way your light body sways.
amber eyes, floral bouquet-
his tongue has been dry for a while
but darling, riesling, you are all sugar.

it’ll be love at first sip, of course
something that balances this lush, this crisp
tannin, cinnamon, tucked away for later.
he will learn that soon and for it
keep you close, maybe even…

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The best of tales

TheFeatheredSleep

I fell hard, such is the consequence of a colorful lure

Flickering in shallow water lit by hope

the world was messy, like a thirsty rag soaked with blood

still not gaining sustainence

sickness an albatross, urging me to frail edge

I had yet to learn that words can possess no value

be simply pretty things, we are misled by like Xmas baubles, turned over to reflect pattern

how can a writer realize, words can be emptier than a hollow tree?

people who write them, do so with convincing candor all enveloping like hard sales pitch

it’s impossible to believe they’re just words, without meaning, or worse, deliberate opposite

of truth, that sparten ideal, sucking ice for nourishment

when the wet ass hour comes, and it always comes

those who stay, are not those who wrote long entreaty

not the flatterers, cake-bakers, trumpet players

they are usually the last you’d…

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