Chin Chin
Look at my dark eyes
see what’s reflected there.
This night. You’ll know the consequences,
Septem annis, bad luck.
I search for your intention,
the way of your heart.
Is our friendship baptised with wine
or murderous ambition?
Can you see shards of candlelight ricochet
from my jewellery?
I deflect precious ingenuity,
glittering treachery,
wealth, taste, good fortune.
Will you stick with me to get your share?
Clink. Clatter. Clink.
Our glasses clash and I see – time pauses for
the splatter of distrust
and then we drink
to the future and discovering
who sealed their fate with loyalty
or poison?
On learning that the tradition of vigorously clinking glasses while looking into each other’s eyes began in Rome to ensure that a drop of everyone’s wine splashed into someone else’s drink guaranteeing that no one could get away with poisoning someone.
Photo by Matthieu Joannon on Unsplash
