He awakened me in Spring. His vision standing brought feeling that needed to be penetrated to be understood. Only by going deep into the now does one understand why. Choppy and rough was my demeanor with Bacchus leading the way to ceremonies. Preparation was in my hands and the only mystery was that of timing as each guard placed around the home left.
Creativity is my life and he wore a comforting glow of familiarity. His hair and lips I want to touch with full consciousness and presence, though I know nothing of love. Desire’s trumpeting gaze took hold of me and I crave more.
The pit of longing, belonging and rapture sit in my stomach while serpents swallow each other’s tails into my thoughts, digesting.
Disservice mounted this hero’s steed and rode into the sunrise with a hint of lingering appreciation.