let it breathe, like wine;
the nose, I’m told, is key,
before your lips and teeth and claws,
before your heart and mind implore
that you embed and bury deep
and sink in deeply fruited sleep
– far down, far down, drink up or drown
or swim the viscous, ruby death,
and with your final, burning breath,
remember this: demise is sweet,
but death by love is still defeat.
Resist the urge, and take your time
to drink your love like fine red wine.