Vino Up
I drank Jesus,
red in the bottle,
and warm down my throat.
Bread as a body,
and soft on the tongue,
absorbing to the red vino.
But was he in me,
eminating from within
a deep desire of dreadful deed.
Oh, I am saved,
on the floor,
and the floor is saved on me.
I force him up on white,
and for once am empty,
and hungry for more.
-Matthew Koutzun
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