I was fading out
Searching for the horizon
Fading on... To the wind
My sheets carried ideas,
my sheets restricted flesh to flies
Eyes sailed... Did my bed
On...                 My tears
Four years... Toes tingling with numbness
Held sky... Inside this room
And that
of prior walls dooring
to that dock
I waft... Away
I waft...
After the fade
I will waft

On the Mediterranean coast of Africa
I waft
with the seeds of a Phoenician queen
in my corpuscule
her sweet fruit
being eaten
by your
heavy tongue
perverse, Moloch sun.

Its funny how my hand fitted perfectly into yours
Funny that you'd wait for me by the school doors
Funny that you'd attack me with your little kisses
Funny that you'd also want us to be mr and mrs

Whats more funny is your hands have disapeared
That you're not at the dooring waiting, thats weird
More funny that I've no lipstick stains on my cheek
Hilarious its that you're miss popular and I am a freak