WINE AND GATES
Will You Speak Of The Devil, When I'm Midnight?
tell me another
the thought on the lip of good intent
we are a salt before we are water
that torrid kind, that thorough scent
of an urge to claim the neglect
of a song bird, that saw the sun
make a pact for pining for pecked
your hand is a climb of season
marriage in the toes of those
the shame of a needful stare, to comfort will
the grape of sincerity in the tired pose
of causes to ought anger, the drive to still
pennies that dream of you
have the taste of nuance, the breath of simplicity
the care of gestures of need, like an angel to do
your hair, is a message to me, with implicity
of which, the sigh of an itch
is ease the courage to live with my thumb
here is you immediate wish
that to take a piece of candy is thus, woman
were you a harlot with your fate to be cagey?
were you having a sneeze when the dawn broke?
were you questioning the sate of guards as a lip raging?
were you picking your nose?
gross but true, why is a ghost you?
the tired, the mired, the sired, the denial...
of honor in the forest of curiosity that has would
maybe, and with a sweet kiss, we save survival...
the thought on the lip of good intent
we are a salt before we are water
that torrid kind, that thorough scent
of an urge to claim the neglect
of a song bird, that saw the sun
make a pact for pining for pecked
your hand is a climb of season
marriage in the toes of those
the shame of a needful stare, to comfort will
the grape of sincerity in the tired pose
of causes to ought anger, the drive to still
pennies that dream of you
have the taste of nuance, the breath of simplicity
the care of gestures of need, like an angel to do
your hair, is a message to me, with implicity
of which, the sigh of an itch
is ease the courage to live with my thumb
here is you immediate wish
that to take a piece of candy is thus, woman
were you a harlot with your fate to be cagey?
were you having a sneeze when the dawn broke?
were you questioning the sate of guards as a lip raging?
were you picking your nose?
gross but true, why is a ghost you?
the tired, the mired, the sired, the denial...
of honor in the forest of curiosity that has would
maybe, and with a sweet kiss, we save survival...
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Will You Speak Of The Devil, When I`m Midnight?
Will You Speak Of The Devil, When I`m Midnight?
