Do your eyes hold a hundred vineyards?
Red, glistening with tears, your
face alight with fire.
I once thought:
A “hundred-year wine” is named so for its age,
but perhaps it is the wine whose intoxication lingers in the
soul for a hundred years—
or even as lifetimes drift by, it never leaves the spirit.
How hauntingly familiar that gaze was to my
soul.
Do you remember the times you poured it into me?
On the 1st, the 3rd, the 5th…
Even now, after more than ten years,
I have
yet to free myself from its spell.
And simply recalling it sends me reeling,