Drops of Wine

among night shadows, your fugitive silhouette
of resplendent beauty I quest
with dancer's grace you traverse the midnight mist
leaving me intoxicated by the trail of your scent

the morning-after, resigned to reminisce
about your lips of wine that mine thirst to kiss
wishing I had rather died by the poison of your tongue
than to agonize by my own wants reflected in your eyes

but to die there - on your bosom
with my hand reaching out for yours
a moment of resurrection never to forget
in exchange for a lifetime of pains forever to regret

shall I not succumb to your caress?
shall I, beloved mine, my furtive feelings not confess?                         

Marco '95