shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Michael Griffith



Her lipstick stains my wineglass.

I have loved her long before the grapes
were harvested,
turned to a red deeper than her stain
but less intoxicating than her lips.

Stick to stone, break the bone.
Broken bonds and words
can always hurt me.

Vowdo uspart.

Death may still kiss my bride,
a willful bride to a willing death.

She: Look how lovely in white!
He: How handsome in his best suit,
gray as cloud-layer atop a pyre.