Did her touch feel as tender as mine upon your silken neck?
And did her lips feel real?
Were the curves of her body like serene waves you wanted forever wade in?
I like to think you didn't smile.
Even if she excited you.
Did her tight lips make you sick?
Her hair doesn't hide her like mine does.
When her current touches your skin it burns and sears,
like a cigarette pushed into flesh.

Enclose around me and imprint your body into mine,
we morph into strong glass.
I cut off my wings and gave them to you a long time ago.
You always wrap me in them.
I don't need to fly anymore. I nest.

Breathing underwater fills your lungs and yet you swallow as hard as you can.
No water can absorb as you drift. Catabasis.
A vacant body amidst an empty mouth,
teeth fallen in potent dreams.

Delicate ogres kiss shimmering necks.
One by one they take their turn to dip into the lake of lust.
Brothers bound by their need to feed -
Inhale dark vapors you beasts,
and strangle your throat.
The opposing advertisement differs: For your throats sake smoke.

They gorge on fruitful delights
and devilishly entwine fingers
in an attempt to ensnare innocence back to their lair.
Run rabbit. Run.

The streets enclose around them, and she knows no escape.
Yet these webs are carved into their backs.
They're taking this sacrificial lamb.
To pull the tender meat apart and leave nothing but a mind impinged with woe.

Your sun bleached lips
carved into by rays and cigarette trails.
The smoke haunts the dark air,
and lingers to remind us of those few seconds that just went by.
I look up at your face,
beautiful in the sense that you are living.
We share the same air and lie on the same blades of grass.

I need these headphones snug in my ears
to stop the air slipping its way in and teasing.
You're going to look a fool.

Need the cooling beats that aren't really beats because they're so discreet.
They make everything look like the film, reeling off a separate version of my life.
Everything seen is witnessed through a tainted lens.
Yellow and serene. A Luc-Godard scene.

You're sitting there and I get kind of scared.
Not as scared as I thought, but that is because I didn't think.
This glass is how we work each other out.
We are both translucent in tiny fragments
In the process of piecing us together.
We are not all green bottle and crystal shard.
We merge together, creating a gold collage.

In the darkness she comes to melt,
surge into cool shadows
and be at one with them.

But they cannot allow her to dissolve into the abyss,
they grab and clench their angry fists
at how beautiful she longed to be
and was,
but did not know.

She faulters in her black waves of mutilation
cutting strands of hair that cross her path.

the floor becomes her death bed,
awaiting to crumble and swallow her into the milky world of her iris.
They're coming for you. Her.

Can't control the grotesque feel of their lips upon her shoulder,
they smoulder
and smother.