Rosemary’s Wine


And her eyes hurt the way they do,
Almost like they’d seen,
Almost like they knew.
And her words soft as they could be,
tied me to her soul
And couldn’t set me free.
And the night that held us in it’s arms,
it held us once again;
But even then
I knew this time
that I would decline
sweet Rosemary’s wine.

Lately I seem to be inclined
more to being cold
less to being kind;
And I suppose
that I’ve been less than true
being what I am
what was I to do.

So I drink
the sweetness of her soul,
and drink it once again;
But even then
I guess I’d known
that I would decline
sweet Rosemary’s wine.

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