Bloated full of secrets
left here seeping at the cracks
With a champagne bottle tension
and no celebration pending

Just a guilt carved cork
wet with pleasure, sweat and sin
Although the hesitation's scarce
if temptation flirts again

When a turtle's on his back
his fate's left baking in the sun
But my choices aren't from bondage
my morals tarnish and I'm stunned

And in my paltry need to justify
I turn around to peer thru holes
Will I fill them with experience,
will I saturate the cork?

Cover me with sun