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"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: of shoes - and ships - and sealing wax - of cabbages - and kings - and why the sea is boiling hot - and whether pigs have wings."
Since There's No Help -- Michael Drayton Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part, Nay, I have done, you get no more of me, And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes, Now, if thou wouldst, when all have giv'n him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.
I lay in the folds of the soft silky thistles; They tickle my ears and stroke my arms, They're teasing me. I kiss the cold creases of its earth; It smells of sweet grain and thirsty roots. I can feel my heart pound beneath the branches Of vessels squeezing and pumping, I remember green eyes. A peach tint glazed over your bones Is how I would describe you. Fleshy warmth with full embrace; I miss your hugs. I reach to tousle your hair but I've forgotten how painfully piercing your eyes are And I look away. A shudder courses through my spine, Absinth bleeds through my fabric, Each fiber swelling and wanting More, I want more. I feel Ecstasy while my skin is pricked By hoards of little needles; numbness. I'm addicted To those eyes. They're Green.
Absynth
