Words.

[ysobelle]

Drunkard's Prayer
(Bergquist/Detweiler)
recording: Drunkard's Prayer

You're my water
You're my wine
You're my whiskey
From time to time

You're the hunger
On my bones
All the nights
I sleep alone

Sweet intoxication
When your words
Wash over me

Whether or not
Your lips move
You speak to me

Like an ocean
Without waves
You're the movement
That I crave

And in that motion
I long to drown
And be lost not to be found
You're my water
You're my wine
You're my whiskey
From time to time

This is a song that's been in my head all day without my knowing it. I think Madonna was too loud in my inner ear. Hm. This may be the only time Over the Rhine overwhelms The Material Girl.

But it says something to me that I'm trying to decipher. I started to write it, then realised this is my first-in-ages wisp of poetry trying to work its way out. My muse has been sleeping for years. Or perhaps down the shore playing the casinos and watching the shows. Sure hasn't been here. Anyway:



Spring
Rips gauze off wounds
"Let them breathe!" she says
And flies away
While I,
Head cocked,
Contemplate bleeding.

Comments

[grinning-fox.livejournal.com]

My muse must have been hanging out with yours. This post? Quite enchanting. Anyway, mine's back now, and he's got that friendly rover's grin on. He's standing at the back of my head, leaning on his trusty battered two-by-four and I must be going before he hits me with it. Thanks for calling him back to me. I missed him.