Madelyn Knight Ambrosia

my eyes read your lips which drip of ambrosia that you stole from the garden that one quiet afternoon

I didn’t recognize your lonely stare as the ambrosia dripped beyond your care

so I’m lost in Elysium dreaming about you and me and how yesterday you were fine and now ambrosia runs up your spine

and if you find me there in the garden where ambrosia grows remind me of the way you stole my life—you stole that day

all for your ambrosia addiction you don’t care—this isn’t fiction we are lost among the crowds getting drunk on ambrosia now