United, a day feels like a second, at most; apart, a day feels like a year, at least; and in my thoughts you’re like an eon in rewind, memories, past and future, lived and invented, slow me down and speed me up, blood pumped in a plastic cup fed to you through a solid tube.
So anxious in these dark times as our internal instincts take over and rule the peasants out on the street, I am the king and you are the queen, and these ants are the jester in our court, so make us laugh, funny man, yeah, you make us laugh.
Clouds blind the sun, shielding what we’ve done and will undoubtedly do again whenever the chance arises; fog banks keeping us safe as we shed our clothes, and I kiss your nose, and continue on below, an adventure we both know; always much more to learn as another day turns and our craving returns; we feed on knowledge and warmth sheltering us from this starvation of each other’s salvation; such wicked dehydration eternally quenched by mutual infatuation.