Sinuously sloshing in a crystal chalice,
This green venom resembles unholy lust.
Pours into a golden cup, (aurum est potestas)
She’s beckoning me, now.
Holding white granules of sugar.
My mother told me not to take candy from strangers.
I take a sip, intoxicated.
The lights flicker;
I can feel a chill in the air like fate.
Pupils dilate.
Emerald liquid, bitter and sweet,
Made of the dreams of lovers,
The breaths of babes,
The darkest desires of creatures untold.
This warmth in my veins is
A pleasant, vibrant hallucination.
But there’s a reason they named it
AbSINthe.
I know in the morning nothing will remain
Of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem