The Solitary's Wine The unexampled ogle of a whore glinting toward you like the silver ray the wavering moon releases on the lake when she would bathe her listless beauty there; the final bag of coins in a gambler's fist; the cavernous kisses you get from Adeline; the maddening tune that will not let you go, as if it echoed faintly all of human pain-- none of that, my Bottle, can compare with the remedy your long green curves supply to the worshipful poet's ever-thirsting heart; for him... read more
