MY CUP

I keep coming back for more

You intoxicate my blood

Struck by a deep and sharp

Sword, then dripping, lustfully

Filling my cup.

This unquenchable thirst

Will you feed, will you pour

Fill me sweet love

Draw me to heavens door

Where I knock and knock

With no answer but care

Not to allow a droplet

To fall from the air

I cannot waste your vialed gift

I will not share, none shall sup

From this gauntlet, this porcelain

Filled by you my precious cup

Flow and stream my hearts

Wounds leave me weak

Dizzy in rare intoxicating relief

My fall will not cease

My need will not leave

Open your faucet of passion

To me and my empty barrels

I have prepared, I need.

Resembling plucked flowers

Weeping sweet scent

This sword is pulled

Apart from my bone and my flesh

The pain is immense but worth every nerve

What I drink of your love

While I die in your curves

My head in your arms

My lips brought to the rim

Of insanity this fiery thirst

it will win.

Again I knock and wait for passage

For I no longer have

My wet and wise adage

It is all I can leave

On this empty plot

This earth will carry away

My used and void cup.

--Diva