Enjambed, sangrias and tattoos of butterflies
Jigsawed between organs.
Open the mouth, tonsils stretching far below
The ridges of the waves in a mass ceremony
Of season.
He tells me, You're the lucky one
And I want to find freedom without knowing why.

Ambivalence is too familiar;
Shanty towns and metal houses poison neurons
And I'm back to the beginning, saving lives, saving lies
For later when they mean something more than pillow talk.

I am pen and paper and you are a multi-minded Renaissance man,
There isn't much I wouldn't do for you yet I stand at the streetcorner,
Generic walking symbol screaming in my face.
I would part the ocean like Moses,
I would eat the entire apple myself, I would run away as Lilith did to save herself,
To save you,

But you need to find the part of you I own by mistake.

White walls and liquor-tainted, idealistic dreams won't bring you rest and rain,
You are an endless heartbreak, deflated, white in pure form;

My arsenic dress is prepared for the red,

And you are the thing in which I swallow. down. whole.