zebrasindenver

Gods of our night give way to mountains of amber liquid,

gods of the sun and this grotesque moon, this sunday a beast of quiet,

born from saturdays noise,

breathing barely,

lifeless, alone, and separated from your side for an hour,

see how i twitch, see how i react to you coming down from your tower of drugs,

i am clean and you are a mess,

and i am dirty, because of your love,

because of you,

i am nothing,

but your dirt.