In lieu of song, liaison:
let the usually silent, final
consonant of a word be pronounced
when followed by a word
beginning with a vowel, and pour out
the sentiment left at the bottom
of the glass when I've finished
the Beaune-Grèves Vigne de
l'Enfant Jésus, claimed by the nuns
who once owned the vineyard to produce
wine as smooth as the Baby Jesus
in velvet pants. I meant sediment, suspension not so much
willing as not disbelieved. Blest
be the ties that bind, the ties
that won't. So that's settled: let words
be the Montmorency cherries I bought
at market because the woman pronounced them Mount Mercy, let them be the tumult
of memory, mute.