I like old glass
with bubbles
Pockets of breath
of the dead laid to rest
I break and I breathe and I taste
Their spices
and vices
Kisses from wives
Curses and verses
Songs of themselves
Wine of their wrath
Salt from their baths
Smoke from their fires
Sweet tastes of desire
Shared sighs and cries
Dead butterflies
Air.
r ~ 3/16/15
Maybe I should save it in a bottle and put a cork in it. :)