we cannot hide
hearts in closets.
suicide may be
close upon our
dying breath and we
maybe counted
along empty
grey, lorn highways
leading to trash
filled turbid seas
but babe, at least
we will have each
other? you sigh,
and disappear
into the sand,
a vanishing
calypso, why,
have you fallen
to the true call
of the siren?
who will prison
me now? no one.
