Good Wine/ Bad Morning WRITTEN BY LUCY MURRELL
On saccharine nights, I seep into the floor, Dance in puddles of cherry wine, And need nothing more than the kiss Of Dionysus. Bitter sips prick my desperate tongue, And I arrive, miraculous. There’s glory in time spent blurred. Through this perverse Communion I am maximized And heard. Brazenly, my voice blooms with declarations. I am so sure. Then night descends Into day. I wake to the split of my skull. Out jumps Athena, Leaving me Godless. Shimmering blades of sunlight stab dry eyes, A biting sign of my fall from Glory, And I am finally mortal. I die, having just been born.
