My Absinthe Heart

I touch the sacred
waters of my
absinthe heart

tender, vulnerable
fingers slip into
pink ambrosia rivers

where liquid flows
languorous, from her
red half-full cup

shaken if not stirred
my pale hands tremble
in her wake, laudanum

where my hearts
drum beats black and blue
I trace a drop

spilling a cocktail
of milk
like my rhythm

my green
absinthe heart
is bruised

© 2009 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

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