I’m going insane again
In this inverted garden.
Writing letters to silence
repeating the wrong dance.
When my mind lies in a glass
to decant and kiss the air.
When my body hangs from yours
like a shot down goose.
Crimson and carmine
as if both were nothing.
They are nothing.
You know the song
You are the song.
I can’t sing it.
Sing it for me.
You know the words.
My legs, your mouth.
Your weight, my weight
this weight of ours.
Sing, sing, sing
Oh please, darling, don’t stop.
I can’t get used
to this absence of yours.
In this flawed garden
this unending gutter
I can’t get used
to the weight of ether.

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