perverted desires twisting
themselves into a rope
and you festoon it
around your necka bullet to your head—
it's time for bed!cyanide greeting the
corridors of your mouth
and you embrace it
with open arms.vision grows clearer
but your sight is blurry:the bells are ringing,
your summons is here!
wear your cloak before
you hesitate again.circumlocutory notes would not do
when I've decided to go is only true.