I Write Poetry

im a falsely little prophet
im the angel in divine
im the clueless puppeteer
pull every strings to my surprise
every hour in a fragment
every fragment in a chord
touch the product to your lips
till your craving so much more
till your calling it your precious
till your retching in your greed
im desire in a bottle
and the bottles all you need
its the clearness that your drinking
its the shameless thing you taste
its the hand that rocks the cradle
and its burning on your face
now im done with my desire
now im through my my entrance
i will hold out all the heavens
as i watch you twirl and dance.