SICKPOET
Bring back your reading list.
Coalypso
ORLESTAUN
Stop that.
SICKPOET
You’ve begun to smell a bit of Vincent’s ashtray, do you need to get something off your chest?
Coalypso
I have wet dreamz about dragging my lips across your stomach amidst a wall full of portraits dedicated to our morbid love; trapped in between heaven and an ultra-violent hell.
Coalypso
I used to be a god damn king with a bloody crown, miss America on my hip, women and gods and monsters; war and peace. But now it’s you and a high road I am too dazed to see the top.