Here is where I cringe in the cradle,
Here are all the creatures fornicating on my back,
Black figurines working black to black
In this vignette I pray for a sudden urge to stay
To steady a vessel
Towards better days

The midnight shoreline makes a ****** edge in my mind
That black world of fornication is my clothing,
My nothing,
To her I am a black figurine
I spin stories in the night
Dark magic sparks from my fingers
Still alive with youth and vigor

I stare into the wall
Solid, banal
And I hope I get bored of it
Soon