The boy lives in his corpse
the girl, her half shadowed body
makes his dead nerves sing
and he tastes acid desire.
He said he would bring her anything
a promise, promising way
out of innocence.
Put away childish things.
With her on his mind
he finds no line
between black and white.
He must choose.
In the point of break
his desire becomes a bleak pool.
He drowns in the grey smudgness.
He does not bring a thing.
The corpse floats
on a sea of penciled graphite.
Between the banks of black and white.
Paralyzed
Been reading Joyce