2004-01-22 / 1:22 a.m.
Vineyard

Withered

Twisting on the vine

The darkness descends upon us

Heavy, foreboding

Your hand touches mine

Hold me close

Let us baste in the summer sun

Gather the fruit of the berry field

Sweet dark juice

Can't stop with only one

Sweetness

Can't resist a little lick

Wrap the rope again

Entwine the two as one

This time, it might stick