Painting by Edgar Degas

Darling, You Could Pour Yourself Another

My gullible liver can only take so much,
so when you sit cross-legged –
the Queen of melodious jazz
from a private club in Memphis –
decorated amid the wavy lights
adding to the aesthetics of your room,
I pour myself another –
30 ml to be precise –
from the semi-expensive bottle of whiskey –
the only tangible object
between you
and me,
besides the dark-purple bed sheet.

You do not have to frown,
nor pretend to listen to the rain
pattering outside on the tin roofs
when I ask you for a kiss
from your lips –
lips like the bliss in
the Garden of Eden.

You could,
look into my eyes
and scrutinize me,
and find me in a place where
I decorate your well-brushed hair
with the freshest flowers in spring –

Daffodil, Tulip, Lily of the Valley, and Hyacinth.


Art by Edgar Degas

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