Last night I dreamed that everyone in the world had sprouted wings, at any moment we could spread our arms and disappear into the sky. But instead we stayed in bed and bitched about the kinks in our feathers.
I am a vulture for your weary charms,
A ragged scratch upon a sordid sky,
Whose indolent predation soon disarms
The cares of one found wandering and dry.
I ache to know you to your bones, my dear,
Such paltry things are flesh and sweat and skin;
When hearts are spent and lovers' lips are sere
The trick's not giving up, but giving in.
At last, when your senescent soul slips free,
And we, the scavengers, descend to dine,
Gorge us you shall, and gorgeous you shall be,
Since by the carnal kiss I made you mine.
These wasted lands will surely one day see
Your waist lands yield their plenty unto me.
Last night I dreamed that
I am a vulture for your weary
A ragged scratch upon a sordid sky,
Whose indolent predation soon disarms
The cares of one found wandering and dry.
I ache to know you to your bones, my dear,
Such paltry things are flesh and sweat and skin;
When hearts are spent and lovers' lips are sere
The trick's not giving up, but giving in.
At last, when your senescent soul slips free,
And we, the scavengers, descend to dine,
Gorge us you shall, and gorgeous you shall be,
Since by the carnal kiss I made you mine.
These wasted lands will surely one day see
Your waist lands yield their plenty unto me.