I have saved you a place by the seaside where we can watch the ocean waves lilt, drifting to and fro, where we can talk about Earth and Angels and be as drunk as we please.
Where we can take off our clothes and feed each other with the last thoughts in our sordid minds, where we can be insane and paint each other with kindness. I\'m so fucking tired of pretending I\'m someone I\'m not.
Making up excuses just so I don\'t have to answer to the truth, knowing deep down I\'m a lost cause. I can\'t fathom this metaphysical wasteland. Love and torture. The blue light of the room, wasting away. There is no quiddity here, no spark in the bones of my hopeless dreams. How long can I possibly go on... changing the bulbs of our saxophone apocalypse?
Fingers entwined in a sentimental embrace. I can\'t stop thinking about you and it\'s getting worse, this drunk obsession. Let\'s talk about our misshapen secrets. You know I won\'t judge you. I won\'t judge a thing. I think you\'re perfect the way you are. Your newspaper beard, your tired feet, the way you smell after a long day of work. Optimistic kisses at midnight.
My kind of man. Rough-hewn and delicate. Hands draped over me like Mulberry silk. I love you like a Father, like a Renaissance painting. The blossoming garden sparkles under the eternal sky. I go there when you\'re not around and think about you. Your wild rabbit eyes. I talk to you like God.
The next time you go shopping buy me roses and watermelon and write me a love poem for my birthday. I don\'t ask for much. Freedom, love. Spilling out onto the pages like wet ink. My Wonderland, calling out for love but nothing has returned. No prayer or song. I\'m waiting for you, ready to give my body as a gift, my youth and my lust.