I confess I drink with my eyes,
I gaze at you and crumble
into bits of delight,
I who can never touch you,
pull you into my dreams.
Joy writhes like a snake in my spine.
I don’t care for the morning
I’m content to look at you and die.
Such is your presence,
that breath is forgotten.
Whoever thought joy couldn’t kill,
should gaze at you, the way I do.
A moment so complete
that one needn’t live another.
Only a love so ridiculous could be true!
