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Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
Might there be a fountain
where souls long dead from thirst
find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free,
so that what once walked as corpse,
night-bound and blind, may see?
Old self exchanged for Treasure, diving in
tastes such rejuvenation as can't
be weighed by mortal measure—
wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall,
from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine
which bathes in healing waters all
who come as humble newborn with bold suck to dine.
"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"  John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  John 15:5


***

Structure inspired by a poem from the journal of Jim Elliot
Tell me that you love me,
Until my heart is full,
And my soul is happy.

Tell me that I made sense of your world,
For we both
Shed tears at the midnight hour.

Kiss me with your wine stained lips,
Smother me with your charm
Ressurect me,
When the sun rises over the horizon,
And brings the same warmth as you brought me.

That is when we remember how much passion was in this wine glass.
now the only thing in my bed pressing into the curve of my back is the corner of a fucking book and the only thing outlining the sheets next to my head is fucking wine stains

Get these fucking books out of my bed where did you go
an overdue goodbye to a man i thought i loved
Ninté Sep 12
his mind is sweet  
it tastes like  
wine and poetry  
fire and history  

his soul is something  
else entirely  
wild, yet sweet still  
it could build or kill
Jack L Martin Sep 11
Another rough day,
The wine glasses sing to me:
"Fill me up my dear!"
Poetic T Sep 9
I tasted your breath
                  like wine,
                  and when it soured.

                  I dropped the bottle...
gracie Sep 9
tell me the story of the fawn,
white-spotted, damp-eyed,
lying still on the roadside;
how the forest mourned for days,
twisting and churning its leaves
against the ashen sky.
tell me the story of tragedy,
wind beneath the wings of Icarus
on his journey to the sun;
how he closed his eyes and smiled,
basking in freedom’s warmth
before plummeting back to earth.
tell me the story of youth,
wild and tender, dancing barefoot
as though we were made of nothing
less than bruises and blackberry wine;
how I'd let love destroy me,
crashing
the car
if it meant dying in your arms.
Priyanka Sep 7
Who’s been your best lover
Asked the one who sets my heart afire
Wine, I told him, none other.
He marveled at my innocence
How could that be?
I was possessed, he insisted.

Yes, I am, I said,
Who else could have done it?
Completely numb my brain
Get into my skin
Each pore, reeking of love
And smelling of the beloved.

He wasn’t impressed, this one
It’s just an affectation
The lover isn’t yours,
Nor do you belong
This stupor, how long does it last?
A few hours, and he’s gone.  

You don’t understand,
I explained passionately
My breath heavy with devotion
Sparkle returning to my eyes
Like memories of a long-lost flame
Haunting you in the dead of the night.

It’s not good, he maintained
This obsession, the habit
Of going back to an ex.
‘I should be the one, the only,’
The refrain, I heard each day
As I got lost in the arms of another.

Was he right, maybe I do...
When I first embrace the smell
And then, bring him to my lips
And turn his taste in my mouth
The tongue occasionally
Touching its roof, finally
Seeping into my system.

A snap of his fingers,
The one in flesh and blood,
Brought me back to life
I looked at this one,
And leaned forward
To kiss, to give him a taste of love.

Drink, my love,
Share my passions
Turn me into your mouth
This one’s not going like the others.
The wine, it cannot walk away
It’s mine, a part of me forever.
He's the wine that's seeped into my system
My blood is a toxin
Toxic like wine
The ink from this pen
Is duly mine

Your name is a drug
My drug and my wine
My body was your temple
Now become a shrine

The harlotry is my venom
The venom is my wine
And for all that I may account
I know I've walked the line

The whisky is my poison
The poison is my wine
And I find it warmer here
Beneath the dying brine

Now my thoughts lay bundled with twine
And here I am, fresh out of wine
I wrote this almost a year ago, still very prevalent
I sharpen my knife,
I stab my own heart
to see if what comes out
is yours or mine

My chest's a hive
bees feast, my flesh to part
the buzzing, a silence so loud
from my blood they make honey wine

I spill it
I speak in tongues
rest upon my honey womb
my nature's a slave to all that you do

In my palms and shapes you shall fit
breathe deeply through my lungs
let me sleep in the silence of your tomb
my nature's turning pure in you
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