Revelry.

When hearts as free as wolves released

are out on high to roam as beasts

they plumb the depths and scale the heights,

like anchors tethered to willful kites.

The nights are long and people are free

to sing what songs grant them fecundity.

And as beer-sozzled minds trail off in haste

our actions oft leave a bitter taste.

Such closeness is shared and feelings are expressed

in such rapid succession that we love and detest

in the same moment, 'til our minds stop and say:

you could have it any other way.

I stand in the corner like some ignominious crow -

like some field in waiting for seeds to sow;

and I laugh heartily and let my fears pass the latch,

even though I fear and feel detached.

The girls all dance and sing their songs

whilst men drone on in irksome throngs.

Yet what brilliant couples couples make

when they're coupled in love for coupling's sake.

A drunken ramble at 2am

will seem inscrutable in the morning.

And like the Sun in rising to greet us,

renewed feelings will start dawning.

In drunken revelry we share

the nights, like fireflies that elude;

we drink, though we know we might crumble,

and wait for passion's food.

I try to numb this numbness with alcohol

and yet a frozen shroud creeps over my skin.

I don't know what my life means,

but at least when I'm hungover I'll feel something.