Over Jägsinthe and Opalite
To be honest, I admire you true,
Though I fear my words may misconstrue.
No matter how I confess or admit,
Your presence alone makes my spirit lit.
Is it your beauty that draws my eye?
Yes, but your wit and kindness amplify.
I cannot say why your light takes flight,
Dimless and bright in this dark of night.
Like absinthe’s sway, your magic delights,
Or Jäger’s warmth, a guide through nights.
Your perfume, sweetest, calms my ire,
A balm for the soul, a secret fire.
And when the brown and green combine,
Herbs steeped in wine, a taste divine,
The sighs once soft now boldly scream,
In poems like Marx, Nietzsche, Heine’s dream.
Forgive me if wine has loosened my tongue,
Or the fusion of spirits made thoughts unsung.
Perhaps I’m hopeless, seeking sparks anew,
Letting my heart numb from past’s residue.
For looking back, I feared dismissing,
Not wishing to spoil friendship worth cherishing.
Yet I admit, your presence inspires,
Like absinthe blazing green-hot fires.
I tried to temper with water and sweet,
But the drink’s strong pulse quickened my beat.
I wondered why your charm so rare
Leads me to depths without a care.
Tomorrow comes, just ordinary day,
Waiting for festive nights in a few days’ sway.
And messages say simply: “Move along.”
But tell me, is it easier to forget after fun?
Pardon these thoughts, the liquor’s flow,
They spill as poems, where feelings show.
Perhaps never mind me, or words I say,
But I am just thankful that you cleared my way.