In the wine lies the truth.
A glass of Spanish or Chardonnay is often the recourse for genteel folk to retreat into the Serengeti of imagination; flickering colors and shapes like images in a kaleidoscope being viewed by a Schizophrenic.
As the body and mind merges into one warm wholesome being, thoughts of unabashed emotions slowly creep up and empower the inducer to become fleet footed of mind and senses – words and actions become synonymous with the free flow of life – no barriers just the great wide yonder beckoning like a bitch in heat.
In the inebriated nuances of wine and poses, the murmuring releases the bonds of perceived sanity and all is let loose upon the senses.
Many have succumbed to the seductions of wine. It’s bouquet, its aroma and its taste…a concerto conniving insidiously with the prosaic and the exotic to ignite sensory perceptions on the untraveled path to a world of the uninitiated.
Ask a Christian, they will tell you what it means to drink the blood of Christ.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
marculyseas 