Beautiful beautiful boy
Is it you?
Or I
Trot along in busy traffic
Rush hour
Noise
You\'ve become so adequately poised.
Peaches and cream
A razor
For what I wish
I already have
When seen through a glassy eye
That isn\'t my own.
A razor
Not spun
A razor
Give me a taster
Of what it\'s like
If I chase the chaser
That is being chased
I am not a trator
Beautiful beautiful boy
Gone to waste.
Around the ear
Down the neck
From you
Glassy eyes
In the glass of the mirror
Observe
A stubborn wreck.
Curl up
On my stained lips
An abundance of me
Stings
Like salted chips.
I\'m still not convinced
Even with this sterling silver
Descending
Like an elevator.
Headed to ground floor
Descending
Onto your face
How does this feel this silver feel?
How does this silver taste?
Oh beautiful beautiful boy
Gone to waste.