Corporeal Clouds
     Sanity of question
The heart of humanity
     Within the tree of
   blood we are all
     Woven and grown.
The fairest face
     The darkest eye
  Cannot believe
    In life of rain.
Forage for the berries
         Of wine of crushing
             And hear the cries
of the world turning
          For bitter is the wine
  and burning is
           The desire to
                                      drink.