I do not know you
Old patriarch of time
Whos gossamer hands turn water
Into my wine

That I uncork with revelation
And drink with great faith
I’m baptized by pleasure
That only you can create

But the blood of your own
Is my liquid of sin
Glass after glass
Through my holy veins, it swims

Lord i’m now by the toilet
The old porcelain throne
And I'm down on my knees
But no prayer is forlorn

So I heave away
Your sacred grapes are wrathed
Deliverance of wine-soaked sadness
Confession at last
Later drunken hymns
Will arise from my bed
I’ll moan out your name
Not my lover’s
Instead

Two hand-crafted thighs
Bound together by grace
Spread open at once
By the devil’s embrace

And the same snake that tempted
Poor Adam and Eve
Slides back in his cave
Slithering with greed.