Something borrowed

All energy is borrowed.
And knowing Your thirst, I
Place A heavy glass into your outstretched hand, and un-stoppered,
Pour Myself out for you as a drink.
Whiskey of course. Neat.
Difficult to describe. Complex with notes of strength. And doubt.
A dram for your palette?
O, how I hope!
I would have You drain Me, now.
Drink Me in one draught from Your Lips-
With one gasp from Your Eyes.
And My energy betwixt Your greater, unfolding in you and expanding – would fill you.
Eyes closed. Drops savored on red lips, slowly, You breathe Me out. A vapor floating in the dark,
Reborn to ride high on the night breeze alongside, as Your Soul wheels in the air, silent. Magnificent.

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