Divine Love

Strange champagne.
Poured out long ago -
so long ago.
Not gone flat, though.
Froth on the tongue:
each sip
goes straight to the brain
and makes it sing.

Strange party, too.
We all stood around,
waiting for the guest
of honor, until
the host whispered
in each person's ear:
Haven't you guessed yet
that it's you?

Leave a comment