I swear these people bleed just
For the color. Keen blue oceans
Of lust and love And miscellaneous.
Anger over the heartbreaker,
Waltzing around as a dogged
Target. Perked up assets make
The eye not wander
I can see you rearranging the past
With your mind as you live on
Your couch upon a hill. The bitter
After taste of nostalgia cutting the
Tongue. But tomorrow makes
Promises of rain.
And now I’ve lost my feet. I don’t know
Where they’ve roamed off to. Maybe
They grew wings and flew to the gods as
Messenger. Or maybe to hell as a warning
To all you sinners out there,
Thinking your water will turn to wine.
And I’m sorry but the wine is just too