All these years,
I have been telling wine,
Not to drink me.
“If you drink me, then my friend,
You shall not be able to walk at all.”
Bearer of Glass Beads
Wine, it always laughs and says,
“Nothing can intoxicate me,
I am the mother of intoxication.”
But earlier today, all of a sudden,
Wine came, parched, dry and dehydrated
And drank a glass of my mind.
It shuddered and sighed
And dropped to the ground,
Trailing its heart in the dust.