Green leaves whisper the morning
I travel to Thebes.
My muscles ache wearing the garland
of ivy and oak.

I burn when I wake to warm blood
water from the shower
streaming milky finger tips
touching the vine.

Honey drips and never dries.
I'm naked
waiting for the danced you said
you're moving on.

I believe a rainbow snake
is the truth I'll wind round your wrist
like a leather belt holding Dionysus
bent kissing earth.

It's a split cave
caked with graffiti when you see
me writhe amongst inky sheets
shedding skin.

My tongue parts your lips.
I touch myself and you smell
the perfumed pulse
shouting yes!

but I don't know how it will end
if this frenzy is blessed
without tearing you limb
from limb. There is worship

when Bacchus drips honey
and the salt is sweat
mingling flesh with flesh
before one thousand different goodbyes.