Witchcraft and wine
it comes so naturally,
and now that you’re mine
I’m going to actually
try my best not to lose it.
If there’s a bomb then I will defuse it.
If there’s an offer I’ll just refuse it.
If there’s a card to play I’m going to use it.
Because you’ve got me under

Your blanket of stars and mysteries,
connecting our scars and histories.
In parked cars both sighing mystically
and back to the park where I was to shy to try anything.

Sorcery and scotch
you put me in a trance.
If you took it down a notch,
I just might stand a chance
that I’m not going to lose my head,
even with my cheeks burning red
getting brighter as you quietly said
“I’ll meet you tonight in our bed.”
Depriving me of slumber

With your healing touch and cosmic skin,
I’m within your clutch and freely giving in.
It’s too much and you have yet to begin,
removing my crutch and cleansing me of each sin.

I was warned of street magicians
and cautioned with tales of gateway drugs.
To not take my eyes off no matter the conditions,
because that’s when they tend to pull rugs.
“If you fall for one,
you’ll fall for them all.”
But this time I’m done,
I think it’s last call.

With your witchcraft and wine,
you make it look so divine.

Human beings trust
The sum of prejudices,
Blunt as rusty blades of limitation
Repeating the same mistakes,
Longing for infallibility,
Losing the last crumbs of trust.

They fell before
Yet wanted the absolute
Of the right version of events.
Sliding under a pile of tangled,
Broken wires,
Which were supposed
To build their impeccability
In judging other beings.

Water changes its state,
How easy to trudge
Further into the blurring
Instead of understanding,
They hurl accusations.

Dust of doubt,
On the empty road,
A rocky path
Perforated by frustration,
And rigid filters.

Drinking the last sip
Of wild screams,
They say goodbye
To gentle humanity,
Selling the heart
to detectors, fallible tools
Of elusive dreams.
Quo vadis domine?
In exitium.

Not gone,
You are just farther,
Far from me.
When it gets darker,
You are just farther.
Hanging in the expanse
Like a crystal.
Staring at your home,
You are not gone.

An extra in the collection.
A collection of infinite
Sea of stars,
And pages of memory.
Some packed in my skull,
Some hanging out
Like a treasury.
Staring at your home,
You are not gone.