Nothingness arrives in a certain kind of rise
and I don’t know madison and park
i never touched roses in winter
Prudishness departures from St. Vincent
the terminal looks too busy.
Please let there be heaven in your touch
compared with the gruesome licks of my tongue
i fail to remember which is which because
something arrives at sunrise bvld
and it could be my mom shadowing me
or my father offing himself
my fears and my dreams sound similar
Rest assured, nothing has changed.
An otherside has come for me and that’s okay,
I live for the delays you slip into my life.