I lay prostrate in the dust and the glamor
waiting for rapture
in the botany where
a leaf disturbed,
draped itself across
cold wet shoulders, sticky ones at that
reminded me about early morning cocaine mindsets
can't escape the rawness of it all, at all
I'd much rather dig a hole and talk about
how I'd let that blood dry if I were you
and how all the lights, I'd sleep with the lights on
and how the light is you, and
fluorescent smile calm
me down,
you didn't know that-
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