The Crimson Rush by Pamela K. Kinney
Delicate fingers tremble
To lift a handle of purest gold
Hold high this Chinese cup
Where blood red bats fly
A porcelain rim
And dance through tangled filigree
Sealed in a painted grave
Sip the scented liquid
Jasmine trapped in amber tea
Chosen flower of the evening
Left upon an altar
Before the setting sun
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