oblivion
“Sangria. It quenches the thirst of those who drink it. It quenches our secret thirsts too. They call it the potion of oblivion.”
–from Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits
eventually it reaches the brain, but begins
with the heart, the blood acting as medium,
il sangue. that night, I felt I could travel
through to reach you, could move within
a world of spirits, to communicate directly
without speech, without touch, in order
for you to find me. the truth is I was drunk
on the little potion I imbibed, a little bit
of love. maybe it was the moon, the wine.
or perhaps it was the sweetness of fruits
afloat in their bath of acidic night, mosquitos
seeking their share of what was tasted
with tongue and lips: that which we wanted
to remember, that which we chose to forget.
7 thoughts on "oblivion"
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A nice flavor
Love the spirit of this poem.
Yes. There are always mosquitos around the sangria!
Near-perfect drifting balance between the tangible drink, the intangible ephemera, and the once and always/never tangibility of a missed chance at relationship. Well done
the truth is I was drunk
on the little potion I imbibed, a little bit
of love.
Great focal point…
Do you ever reread something you wrote and think, “Wow. I am ridiculous, this is extra emo”?
That’s what I’m feeling now.
No, never *shifty eyes*
Haha! But seriously, this is the good cask of emo ?