I gave myself over to the ruby liquid flame so strong –
I vowed to forget that woman, forsake all women, for good.
I swayed with the rhythm of that minstrel’s fine song –
I vowed to frequent every tavern that, by god, I could.
I did not realize that my oath inspired by wine was wrong –
I looked through a knot-hole not yet free of dead wood.

The ringmaster appeared, wiping up my circular presentations.
“My customers prefer silence yet still voice their conversations.”

I turned around, and a self-contained beauty was there.
The barkeep winked at me, with no hint of a leer.
I timed gazing between her glances, to not obviously stare,
and I rediscovered rapture as poignant as stark fear
in that bar’s looking glass, in that profile, framed by long hair.
The keep whispered, “I neglected to forewarn you – cheers!”

Dear God, I don’t think I’m quite ready for this tavern’s fare.
God help me, Oneness is beyond me, once again one of a pair.

A crowd now filled the reeling space,
movement synchronized as if by coincidence.
I chatted with masks resembling her face
and seriously considered every impertinence.
Was this fate? Or chance? Or some sardonic grace?
Head-on, my heart met with her wise diffidence.

The keep remarked, “Paying your tab is customary.”
I thought, what am I, a veteran suicide missionary?