when i drink
i see new york
i am swinging from ropes
tied to industrial fans
how do i
stay sane
in th i s w o r l d
without your p
e
r
f
e
c
t
loove?

i want to hang there like a toulouse latrec
children
will
carve
runes
into my sternum

may be
they'll salt me
and for centuries




read the







stories

across








my
chest