Poetry stained on napkin wine seeping through Once I think I had said wine keeps you sober It's life that you are on. Little did I know then, it's the napkin that soaks it all.
Did you know, Wine leaves marks and markers behind. Blood washes out.
Staring at the tube-light and the million gazes through the strains of the cobwebs I wonder Why do they bother with so much when no one sees them?
Yesterday in my head around my head I dreamt of you Pink, pale, yellow and yelling
It was the ink I suppose which spilled over and pennies dropped soundlessly into the bottomless sea seamless. Counting them with the stars and the tube light gaze asking.