This box is empty:

it is my life, it's my art --


of giving away.

It begins here
On your neck
As a soft kiss
Tasting your skin
Down

Down


Down


To your
Soul

There isn’t a
single

soul on
any of

these dark
deserted

streets,
in these

sleeping
homes, in this

vacant
parking lot,

in these
abandoned

stores in
a failed

mall, in
these lifeless

restaurants, and
I don’t know

where I
am or how

to locate
myself on

this dank moon-
less night.