Like streamlets of gin,
floating the bottom of a bottle
The veins flows, intoxicate abstinence's woes,
carried like wreckage, drying on the sandy shore.
Waste at the door
Drunk of apple core,
spiting seeds of the last tree.
The hands hold the head,
Pour the eyes, crystal soul
Venus radiant, tears of wax
The skin listens exquisite, the roots.
Drying out on the green valley