Watch the shapes
shape them as you can
draw them in my skin
with your running finger

Put your curls on my lap
and import some energy
transmitted from a clap
since a slap is for later

Our fingertips will touch
reaching for the roll
and I will play it in my head
while on a stroll

At the monastical parole
my imaginary friend brings me drinks
and gives me compliments in retrospect
they ask if you'll drink with us?

If not we must commence observing you.

I want to see your empty room in Athens
the lurking catatonia inside it
Will you play more biting your tongue
ripping it off, All along the Watchtower?

Come again to my house which is not my home
and I will come to yours if you ask for it
I will screen your space and your persona
illustrated by all items small and personal

Your presence should give the chills in my futile sess of chilling.