when you spoke too me, I was one of those Pluto people
looking for my glasses without glasses, and the world was smaller than
the sound of your voice, telling me to listen
and the sky was blue, but nothing.
I had to run to the hills of my giants and scrape paint off the cave walls
to find what was underneath the peach fuzz of our upset
Art.

I never questioned how I got there. I only craved abandon and the morsels bestowed lost men. They are meager things...
I crushed the butterflies your lips resurrected -
and had no peace in my dreams save the waking from them -
for the haunting was complete, and I was lost and you
were suddenly gone.

Too bad for me. We can all agree that the world is false
and the god's cruel... but you don't.
I remember now... You said " Life is like a Spool of Dread -
if you let it knit your eyelids shut..."
I slept through everything about you
and regret so
much.