Who are you becoming, now that the bottle has run dry? Did the bottom hold a key?
What am I doing here again, weaving through ill-lit hallways? As a fool~?!
When I come back to visit, the spot between my shoulder-blades flares up; the spot
where the ghost of Judas hangs, smiling at me as he sips Oolong tea.
Why do I come back to visit?....to say hello to fellow poetic rogues such as yourself.