I have a pocket of sighs,
Near my heart which too
Carries these sins.
All plastered in the **** of my lie.

And this is the **** closest I have come to feeling.
The peeling,
The empty organs.

I'll steal the humdrum stampede away
Lush.
A boy's blush,
and a touch.
For a tick,
This pulse will tock.

I am a frugal woman.
Sometimes money,
A vote maybe,
but mostly in trust.
Heartfelt anything will consume my mornings
And by night whiskey departs my remorse.

And it smells like your Oldspice.
And  tumbler glasses feels like the stiff hills of your back
And I remember everything.
Like I said,
This is the closest I have been to feeling feelings.