it melts on touch and roars
feel as though through the seas we soar
she says " halt! my wings are sore"
"a while more", i plead, "don't be a bore"
limpid fluid i find at its core
delicious and bitter though
melts on touch and roars
feel as though a boat not with oars
through seas rough it rows
i tire myself to the core
try to go further for
she has yet to reach the shore
till then i am with her i let her know
till then i close my eyes as before
savour every moment more...
what had to happen i could not allow
for later regret i will, i know
this in two crystal balls i saw
but the delicious bitternes i shall follow
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