After a while
it tastes like sweetwater,
and I can bumble through a bar crowd
with haletosis.
The heartless jest
is this,
I call you
and call you
and call you.
This is the heartless jest,
and in the pantheon
of the heart,
I am minor Hermes
ferrying messages of love
across the brutal galaxies
to a lover
that will never hear me
in the suffocation of nebulas.
The nebulas where i was reborn
and died in an instant
of fire so rapid
that it could break a pulsar
in two.
I have found the vaccuum of space
to be comforting,
it hugs me with a feirceness
that I have never known
and a love for my oxygen
that is downright flattering.
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
After a while
it tastes like sweetwater,
and I can bumble through a bar crowd
with haletosis.
The heartless jest
is this,
I call you
and call you
and call you.
This is the heartless jest,
and in the pantheon
of the heart,
I am minor Hermes
ferrying messages of love
across the brutal galaxies
to a lover
that will never hear me
in the suffocation of nebulas.
The nebulas where i was reborn
and died in an instant
of fire so rapid
that it could break a pulsar
in two.
I have found the vaccuum of space
to be comforting,
it hugs me with a feirceness
that I have never known
and a love for my oxygen
that is downright flattering.
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