Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2018
Are there secrets at the bottom
of this bottle here to savor?
And are they more commensurate
to its volume, or its flavor?
Could ascetic tongues here loosen
and become more libertine?
And could cold feet here defrost,
performing dances unforeseen?
Oh, I think that we should try it -
drink me underneath the table,
For I have no use for secrets,
but I'll trade mine if I'm able.
Subconscious on Parade
  167
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems