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I
am drinking
wine and
the house
is on fire
I
cannot find
my shoes
I
made my
bed 2 weeks
ago
But
I put on
my best
perfume
I
smell like
royalty
and my blood
runs hot
But
I am in
a burning
house
I
refuse to
flee
Perhaps
I will let
the whole
thing burn
Because
it never
mattered
anyway
I
never tasted
the wine
I needed
I
never got
the kisses
my lips
desired
So
let the
damn thing
burn
I
just wanted
a moment
I could
remember
And
I am drinking
wine as
the ceiling
falls
Upon
the floor
and the
floor caves
in
I
am drinking
wine and
the house
is on fire
Spanish Leather
I
want to be a book of
pretty pages
An
angel with gossamer
ribbons and shiny hair
But
all I am is the girl
that sees the angels
Not
flies like one nor sees
the clouds
I
want to be a lyric,
a book of prose
A
landscape
But
all I can see are landscapes
I
never get to walk among
them
Or
perhaps a seascape
But
I would be the crashing
shore
And
not the glorious tall
boats that shadow the
shores
I
want to dance in Spanish
boots
And
feel black lace all
over my body
And
have roses in my hair
But
all I can do is venture
in the garden
For
I am not allowed to
live there
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