lysistrata

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

Concrete eyes are sinking before me
I swim to some guarded shore
Whisky lips are stretched between words.

Chained hands are slicing future plans
I,left alone,dance from wall to wall
Concrete eyes are sinking before me.

Crippled legs are heading hip to hip,floor to floor
I whisper a Love song from a broken indoors
Whisky lips are stretched between words...