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I'll love you to pieces and dilute you in my tears
My vat full of maudlin sentiments that knows no end
I'll sip nonchalantly in my leisure
And in it find my own sort of pleasure
Sweet agony pulling at my lips
As I recall how my fingertips
So flirted with fruition
On its way to perdition
This wine is mine
Its intoxication begs awareness
And, I the complaisant one, acquiesce
To savor the brine
To call it fine
And keep in mind
It too once was whole
Ripe with its lack of control
Left to foment in itself
Only to belong to someone else
As I do you
My Best, your ambrosia binds me still
Made a man of me and stole my will