Louching

[zxcv6789]

Louching

I begged my spirit
the valor to pour you neat:
your face to gush
and gush
then fall
blissfully,
those emerald eyes
to reflect in mine,
pull me down
deep.

It was the piss
and the vinegar
that put it on ice.

So your face fades
like a frost kissed pane
and high tales of you linger
in my doleful soul,
exposing:
tenderness
honesty
truth.

And now nothing will ever be as real.
Not even your spring-hued eyes.