He is Bacchus and she is the Red Witch
She revels in his beautiful words
spoken in a room of silk and lace.
The wine is opulent and abundant
As the crystal ship glides its way through mirrored seas
The servants are quiet
The panoramic psychedelic scenery eating their imaginations.
He stops reading, looking at her, his eyes glowing with lust and love
He once again bitterly complains about his role in all of this
He only wants to be with her; he wants her to be with only him
She throws her head back and laughs, infuriating him.
She's heard it all before, over and over again
Through moons upon moons, tides upon tides
The ever changing world that has yet to stop spinning
And set them free.
He sets on her, his fury rising, and grabs her china white arms
Her fiery red hair cascading around them.
He's insisting she change things, to invoke the Goddess
She reminds him he is a God, he has always been a God
And to become a monster now would shatter her.
She reminds him of centuries of this same conversation
and he grabs a bottle of wine, blood red wine
pouring it along their bodies creating a fire of their own making
In the morning she awakens slowly
Thinking of how much harder he is to convince each lifetime
She wonders what will happen when he refuses to leave her
And although he's gone
She can still feel his life force in her bed, in her rooms.
He's off to begin again
And the Red Witch will wait for him as she always has
She'll become the Dark One, she knows and then go on
Only to begin again some September at Harvest Moon
Slowly walk the path of the ancients as The Maiden
And suddenly remember him
Not only her inspiration, her love but her only true mate
Bacchus ...
