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Vijayawada, India

I am the wine and the future I wonder how many ripples I will have to swim I hear the trickle of time in a bitter bottle I see the translucent red drain from the wine I want the sweet satin liquid to stain my tongue I am the wine and the future. I pretend to entertain the glowing embers I feel the dew that sours the grapes I touch the vine that grows new life I worry the drunkard may speak the truth I cry the dewdrop tears on the winery walls I am the wine and the future. I understand the dust on the bottle I say it only makes it sweeter with time I dream the sponge cork may never be replaced by lips I try to glimmer the crack in my glass container I hope the sun-faded labe