Frankie.

There's too much wine on the floor
And piss and vomit and more
A girl across the starstruck city
Cries because of me
Cries in bleak idolatry
And in the morning
I speak of kings and love and things
I heed no cry or warning
As I ready myself to sting

Her tears burn at my fingertips
No honey do I find here
Her hair is all colours, her hair is magic
But no solace either do I find there

My tongue of acid
Apparently
My tongue of fire and ash
Doused in wine
To save the lash

The wine spills onto the floor
Meeting my blood
And mingling into something more