The poison of Dylan and Eric,
infectious and somewhat unreal,
perhaps the poison I have of theirs tasted,
is not from their mouth but their heart.

I feel the weight of the wave fall upon me,
their end is the bloom of a daisy,
not smiling, but a release ripping them apart,
my womb wishes to comfort them.

And at once I am quiet, exhausted,
ready to sail and walk among clouds,
only to feel the earth beneath me,
occupied I leave and choose to be Leila.