short expected crash

The wine
Red in futures waterfall
she left only a silent footstep
circled in the given chains
such ease that door which crept open
like the books, the first page always spoke
Love spread amongst already forgotten sheets
lay incomplete lay in false sleep

and in the misty drunken fog
suicides beauty
the bed laid out
came across the  soul
times reincarnation whole
fake this colour blood
spilling from my hand