Tonight's Poet Corner: Bad Brew

Bad Brew
by Belinda Roddie

If the drip, drip, drip
of my infatuation finds it way
into a potion, it shall spoil it;
this elixir must be pure, unadulterated,
and utterly crisp to the taste.

Any sweetness would damage
the sustenance. Any cloying will
wilt a tongue and turn lips gray.
Lovers will kiss each other if they fear
their mouths will melt and decay.

Still, I'll bottle this pseudo-romance
up and pretend it's actually potent.
See, it'll sit in a bottle with a crystal stopper:
The presentation leads the fool astray.
But fools find love in stumbling feet,
swooning into briar and brush.

And they are blind to reality,
like the thorns stuck deep into
the desperate prince's eyes.