ABSINTHE

Green cascades down over sugar -

Green collides with ancient pleasure...

Queen inhales the potent treasure -

Dream of tripping trap & trigger.

And the drums are calling...

The stars are falling...

The licorice flavor of bitter green milk.

The vision strewn strobing...

The figure disrobing...

My tongue free & probing...

My tears fall like silk.

This sagebrush religion...

This wormwood incision...

This liqueur magic is ripened in pain.

Crowning in scene three...

Drowning in green sea...

At last I will be free...

Or at last I'm insane.