let it spill

when i first lifted my glass
and nosed your polished aroma
i hadn't realized then, how your
perfumed bouquet would intoxicate me

you, accessible one, with all your
heady complexities, deserve to
be brought out from the cellar

and no mere tasting will be enough
bright and clean you would be
upon my tongue

held midpalate, i'd swirl you about,
swallow you down, your finish
lingering, demanding of me
another sip

to me, you are at peak flavor
no mere tasting would ever be enough.
pour me a glass, i will drain you
to the last. pour me another
until my cup runs over

stain the tablecloth,
i don't care about that
let it spill.


--bruised orange