vintage snare

IMG_0227Wine, mystery net.  I don’t want to solve you.  Just walk with.  Write with.

Looking at bottles, especially red, I always wonder what’s behind glass.  What it wants to say.  Does it want to be understood, or remain enigmatic, anomalous?  Maybe that’s not for me to know, just experience.  React if I want.  Need to keep walking, pour2pour.


This, too enjoyable, tinted

puddle.  Speak whatever elixir’d

elements you have to hatch.

Distance, only more anxious an

admirer makes.  Sipping, imaginarily–

Your clouds that carry me.


Wine, nano-entertainment of, sends me2ramble.  But maybe that’s intended.  Red bed, since said from where fled.

More walks, through libraries, vintage, type, stripe.