Bottoms up

The bewitching hour ~

Soft shadows slide

Across my sight

Suggesting

Relief from dreariness
Oh such sweet escape

Another’s oasis

Held within

A tall slender vessel

Lies my ghost

Clear liquid gold

Fermented to perfection

Waiting to be unleashed

A wolf

Dressed like a fox

Saying she will devour

Fear and anger

Yet that dog lies

She only wants me alone

And dead…

My Sweet Sally

My delusion is so

Very very real

As real as that empty glass.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.