I Wound To Nest

I that cometh in the dark of pristine nastiness
Where lurks the bosom of my lust
Water running dry liquor pouring from the firmament
That innocuous sound of the drop
Swift and silent with a punctured finish
I came down glory lanes
I rode past the venerating princess
More have seen less
My horse has worn a trail
Moisten documents read aloud
Where I went was written down
Picking truffles like a pig
Synchronize swimming with the sharks
Luminosity serene in its dankest tawny mist
Sainthood won’t escape me
The faith will not unleash me
I wound to nest!

RC