My glass of wine
Extracted off the garland of grapes
Dismantled its pearls on the floor
Just to suck the pulp of my desire at stakes
Step on the lace
To mash the lives it beholds
And then wear it around myself
To enjoy on my surface the drip drop of its pain
Green globules of starch n fat
Glassy summary of life and disdain
Entangled together to cry at a clap
A clasp of indexes to announce collapse
sorry
Didn’t know u arent ripe
Didn’t know u wont be able to make my drink that fine
I wouldn’t have squeaked u in the dusk
Would have heard your squeal
And respected ur spirit more than the surplus husk
I cant load myself with such a sin
How can I ever tread on my keeps soul
No I cant steal the hose of someones water dole
I cant add this immerit to my hole
The festoon I would willfully wear and not like to hear its screech
I would make my garland flourish and not deliver it as the dead’s wreath
Who am I to staple, who am I to preach
Who am I to bandage, who am I to ever provide a sheath
But as myself I wouldnt have ever smashed or nailed
As myself I wouldn’t have let u suffer
I wouldn’t have ever had u killed
My garland of grapes
My most prized possession
My mucous in the see through skin
My gel unfurnaced in the kiln
My garland of grapes
My beads ruined anoon
Destroyed before trying any of the shapes
Abashed on the undercover of a greedy spoon
My garland of grapes
the reflection of my infinite drapes
My garland of grapes
Whom my own Brahmin each day rapes
Date:2 september 2005
Extracted off the garland of grapes
Dismantled its pearls on the floor
Just to suck the pulp of my desire at stakes
Step on the lace
To mash the lives it beholds
And then wear it around myself
To enjoy on my surface the drip drop of its pain
Green globules of starch n fat
Glassy summary of life and disdain
Entangled together to cry at a clap
A clasp of indexes to announce collapse
sorry
Didn’t know u arent ripe
Didn’t know u wont be able to make my drink that fine
I wouldn’t have squeaked u in the dusk
Would have heard your squeal
And respected ur spirit more than the surplus husk
I cant load myself with such a sin
How can I ever tread on my keeps soul
No I cant steal the hose of someones water dole
I cant add this immerit to my hole
The festoon I would willfully wear and not like to hear its screech
I would make my garland flourish and not deliver it as the dead’s wreath
Who am I to staple, who am I to preach
Who am I to bandage, who am I to ever provide a sheath
But as myself I wouldnt have ever smashed or nailed
As myself I wouldn’t have let u suffer
I wouldn’t have ever had u killed
My garland of grapes
My most prized possession
My mucous in the see through skin
My gel unfurnaced in the kiln
My garland of grapes
My beads ruined anoon
Destroyed before trying any of the shapes
Abashed on the undercover of a greedy spoon
My garland of grapes
the reflection of my infinite drapes
My garland of grapes
Whom my own Brahmin each day rapes
Date:2 september 2005
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