we thirst, Sahara arid chaos,
printed on my stomach, lavished
in my tongue. he's all i knew of water.
bitterness is copasetic. he claims
that i am strange; i am his mockery.
forsake four hits for forty; force lethargy.
but he, he will dream of me.
in our demise we polarize
and gleam and gleam and gleam.
drop me by the porchlight, and
desecrate my beauty: 'cause if it can
be ruined, maybe it was real once