Lay your hands on my cold and fragile bottle;
hold the cork and twist me-
gently--
slowly--
don’t stop until you hear me pop;
set my spirit free and I go astray-
into your soul so weary;
close your eyes, smell the earth in me-
herbs, tobaccos, vanillas, trees-
savor the aroma of heavens;
now pour me down in the empty glass-
of love and affection;
touch me with your lonely tongue;
indulge my warmth-
wrapping your delicate heart;
little sips-
after
little sips;
until-
you lose control.

When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.

Beneath the salvaged chandelier from a great ocean, liner,
I sip Earl Grey tea from the finest, bone china
With a polite little man in half-moon specs
In the warehouse of treasures that he collects:
Of hallmarked silver in glass, display cases,
Porcelain figures with colourless faces,
Pearls, ivory,  pallid pieces of jade,
Diamonds set in a Damascene blade
And before a naked Apollo in snow white stone
Plundered by the Goths from his temple in Rome,
The polite little man in his tidy bow tie
Kisses me on the lips as he
Unzips my fly.

Have you seen me recently?
Have you seen me anywhere?
Just can’t seem to find myself
Anywhere
Listen, no pressure
no problem
But
if you happen to see me
anywhere
anytime
please call
Seriously
you have my number
Just call
Honestly
I am seriously looking
for me