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Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Elusive Grail

There is one cup that I have yet to drink from,
Still one rim on which to leave a print of lips,
A swallowing to make me overflow from the brim

In which no river runs dry, yet where
Water always remains the prodigal son,
Or to die once more in the mouth of the sun,

An intoxication forever burning in the belly,
Following the elusive grail,
Destiny is broken down to the holding

Of you and the drinking in you,
Lungs imploding like a flattened can,
Consuming consummations always

Leave me wanting one more cup of you,
Like God's holy water
You make me feel immortal.

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