I want to rattle your bones
send you home scorned and lost in the world
cheered and tossed under the horn
which has blown down these walls.
small victories pursued by clarity
lost acclimations of instant gratuity
is it worth it at all?
salute to the fallen
small child drops tears revolving
i find a nice place to die for the night.
respect and regret
the morning is scorched by sex
higher and higher we grow
until our veins pump liquid metal
and our skin is a silver alloy
her scent is that of legends