Spilt wine

Sunshine has spilt on the deck again
blood red but happy, a wine not tasted but savoured
lingering until moonlight swallows its scent, like it was never divine
But you have called to the night
you have asked that she return the warmth to your belly
she lies, cold, naked and pocked, a wry smile curling her lips
Have you not done enough, did you not deserve your loss?
some would say the weeds grow because the sunshine existed at all
but you see it differently, you see the weeds as a balance not a curse
Always the optimist, you blind me with your hot desires
my black tongue shows too much of my diet
for sunshine was not savoured by me at all
Night stole it away before I could get on my hands and knees
and beg for its enlightenment, pray for its reprieve
but I can live this second hand, I can leech it from you.