Sipping from the goblet, green leafs they are
Infused with a fruit that bares billions of seeds within
Lying stretched out now with feathers covering me all about
Pewter on thy chest, and steam billowing from within
A glance to the footboard tells of a new tale to bring back to life
Like a pouch that’s placed inside I’ve placed two now, O’ how I can’t forget
Submerged in steaming water, submerged in a bed of silk there almost the same
Vision of a string and tag now hangs on my jars side
Bee line strait to my right toe that’s where my eyes go
Like a sick joke it reminded me again of another tag I can’t erase from my mind
Soaking in lining, soaking in a mixture of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen
Ever so carful while pressing the bag to get the remaining flavor
Trying not to rip for fear of a foul taste
Like a pouch that’s placed in its chalice with a soul still attached
Body has been brewing all the same told maybe not to rip that bag
For things might not look so good, no fear here I had to see the face
Eyes were closed and red lines running from the corners of her mouth and her nose
With a blink of my eyes I took a picture as if she had posed.
(CARSr. 5-17-12)
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Sipping from the goblet, green leafs they are
Infused with a fruit that bares billions of seeds within
Lying stretched out now with feathers covering me all about
Pewter on thy chest, and steam billowing from within
A glance to the footboard tells of a new tale to bring back to life
Like a pouch that’s placed inside I’ve placed two now, O’ how I can’t forget
Submerged in steaming water, submerged in a bed of silk there almost the same
Vision of a string and tag now hangs on my jars side
Bee line strait to my right toe that’s where my eyes go
Like a sick joke it reminded me again of another tag I can’t erase from my mind
Soaking in lining, soaking in a mixture of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen
Ever so carful while pressing the bag to get the remaining flavor
Trying not to rip for fear of a foul taste
Like a pouch that’s placed in its chalice with a soul still attached
Body has been brewing all the same told maybe not to rip that bag
For things might not look so good, no fear here I had to see the face
Eyes were closed and red lines running from the corners of her mouth and her nose
With a blink of my eyes I took a picture as if she had posed.
(CARSr. 5-17-12)
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