you spend every friday and saturday night
with white dust attached and sprinkled on your nose. sometimes you’ll tell me it’s a quarter of the moon, and all of the gods have to taste the galaxy too.

you sometimes scream that i’m the worst addiction you have ever endured and sometimes you whisper that you don’t want to quit me. you tell me without me you can’t live
that my hands send you to the highest heavens and my lips make you taste it

you claim that the universe is that spot between my thighs, you also claim you know the route to the underworld and to get there is by pulling my spine

you ask me if i can save such a ******* soul
because you are drowning in my love
and i tell you it’s gonna be okay
while i tie the anchor around your feet.