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.