Merlot
It glows in my mind,
Red as blood,
Slight tinge of purple,
It doesn’t matter what
Might be offered…
Merlot, cabernet, zinfandel,
The result is the same:
A journey into past and
Present future lives,
Whether they be true or not.
Warm sensation is still there,
Balances chill my skin feels against
Alternate realities my mind finds.
Lives I’d rather live than I have now.
Bless these grapes, and all they show us.
I’d discard them, if asked.
Yet, I’m never questioned.
Until then, I’ll drink with gusto,
Cabernet, beaujolais, merlot,
Until you,
Yes, you….
Show me my craft,
What it is to hew words
Without chisel,
Sans dimensional shifts,
Without this crutch,
I cling to
In desperation.
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