I dip my chalice into the well of memory
Slowly sipping the cool wine from within
The taste is sometimes bitter often sweet
Yet the elixir does neither evil nor good
Again I raise my cup and the crimson body
Of things I once thought to be a dream
Sparkle as I gently swirl the drink in the light
The aroma reaches me; it takes my mind
I become aware that my eyes are closed
I wonder how I see without seeing
It is the wine, the fruit of my yesterday
Its oaky richness cradling my soul
I open them slowly, reluctantly yet
Curiosity and desire have claimed me
In your eyes I see my own and know
That this moment was born of your kiss
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