Absinthe Minded

Antimony Chloride shades
The green waterfall.
Anise, mint, lemon balm…
The fragrance captivates us both.

The cube dissolves into
Opalescent swirls.
Dreams of fire,
Burning through the Doors
Of Perception

A spoonful of sugar?

Poe and I would take it straight.
Our gaze opening wide
Onto the heart of darkness,
Mumbling “nevermore…nevermore…”

We pour again,
Stepping quickly past the
Bitter aftertaste
Of wormwood.

Trembling hands grasp the fountainglass softly,
Lightly as the caress of a raven’s wing.
Slowly, the mists clear away.
Eyes staring ahead,
We let the dream approach–
A vision whose face always lies just out of reach.