Red wine drips
Down my lips
As I lust over a girl,
Which entices my “wits”

I feed her my wine
While she trips over
Dionysus’ vine.

Ever more do I fein
To embrace her bodily gleam
And silvery sheen.

As I begin to phase
She begins to haze
Into a highlight of lustful gaze.

Now do I embrace her
In all her lusty twilights
I bath her in wine,
As she drinks,
From thy heavenly vine.

Her wine soaked body I do caress
As I taste of her wine soaked breast
Of all the flavors I do digest
As the wine lustfully flows down her chest.

Wine and Lust is what I do trust
As the Satyr is born from
Dionysus’ dust.

Commentary:
The pleasures of passion never leave without some kind of mental stain, and what better stain than wine flowing throught every single vein and on the sheets that two heavenly bodies lustful created passionate heat. This is my desire...