Spirit Bottle

Kissing your throat
I used to run my hands
Across the dent in your ribcage
You told me long ago
That's where they had taken out your heart
I could see the scars

As a gift
If i plucked my heart from my chest
Precious and shining
A faceted jewel
You would dash it to the ground
Riches meant nothing to you

But there was a time
I would have made any deal
Bribed any god
Novenas and contracts
My very soul
How pathetic I was

Now at your tombstone
The upper hand is mine
I could press my lips to the ground
And whisper
A libation of whiskey
A handful of coins
A pocket full of graveyard dust
You could be mine in a spirit bottle,
a tincture of bitter and bile to drink like a slow poison
You could be mine forever

But I'm not here to dance on your grave
I can't hold rage like you did
I forgive you
I bless your vain and pale shade
I release you angry spirit
Into the peace of oblivion




3/2011