She counts down from a hundred to one,
Clutching her love like a crutch.
He fumbles,
Hunting for his hunger.
They blot out doubt
And muster up their trust

"I'm fine" she cries,
As a child dies.
He learns,
He spits in her gritted eyes.
She reminds him that they're dying,
Burning while they turn
Spinning in his sheets
Struggling to breathe
Smuggling their dreams
In apologetic sweat
And ***** epithets

The infant actors beg for ******
Whispering the wishes that are listed in the script
Quoting moans that catch on choking throats
Pleading for release
Reading of futility
And mutual defeat
Delivering a finish
In pillowed soliloquys

Adolescent in the stillness
Adolescent in the heat
Adolescent in the promise
Adolescent in belief

She stutters love in ****** butterflies
On his rasping chest
As he gasps for breath.
She grasps at death,
While he grabs a cigarette.

Cast away in brackish blanket seas
They wrap themselves in fallacies
And laugh at their realities:
The cult of love belongs to Morpheus
And adulthood is an orphanage