Asia

She has such a giving way, she brings me Bollinger, on Christmas Day, what can we do alone, without repentance, in circumstances of our own, wine pours down my face, like a Christening, she fires the Angel cake, are we here or gone, she hasn't got a pot to piss in, we laugh at the unknown, choose to live or waste, cash our lives in richness, called upon to pray, her slumber a loving say, like rhythms of the sea, and the trips i'd made, my greatest days, awash in her forgiveness, are enough to celebrate, that beautiful spirit.