Keys to Bordeaux

To the heart a key in purple the wave loosen by the tick. Keys play winding words round fingers a’click.

Droning cries tame the wreck with Montaigne eyes and woes. She sounds alarm to open wide his study and his stick.

A haunt a wraith a wife too soon to ground a friend at canter pace a woman to be bound. Hold the pump and slow the breath a pain to him jubilee, the rest.

A prick ten spines and bumble sting winter here and never spring. Again return to darkness dear from darkness whence he came.