№ 7




Ah, to consume your lips

Feed from your desire
Would that your glass not be empty
That it be overflowing with fire
Burning down my throat
Like fine Tennessee rye
Liquid heat filling me to the core
My head muddled, flying high
Drunk on your fine spirits
I begin to shake and sway
Draining your precious bottle
As I finally have my way

©Spiritwind Studios

photo credit

8 responses to “№ 7

  1. Jack and I never got along together, but they tell me when once you get to know him, he’s brilliant…great poem, love the passion you express!


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