United, a day feels like a second, at most;
apart, a day feels like a year, at least;
and in my thoughts you’re like an eon in rewind,
memories, past and future, lived and invented,
slow me down and speed me up,
blood pumped in a plastic cup
fed to you through a solid tube.

So anxious in these dark times
as our internal instincts take over
and rule the peasants out on the street,
I am the king and you are the queen,
and these ants are the jester in our court,
so make us laugh, funny man,
yeah, you make us laugh.

Clouds blind the sun,
shielding what we’ve done
and will undoubtedly do again
whenever the chance arises;
fog banks keeping us safe
as we shed our clothes,
and I kiss your nose,
and continue on below,
an adventure we both know;
always much more to learn
as another day turns
and our craving returns;
we feed on knowledge
and warmth sheltering us
from this starvation
of each other’s salvation;
such wicked dehydration
eternally quenched by
mutual infatuation.