Part: HUIT

That circus tiger broke your heart and left you on the ground without a beat. And I bet you wish you didn't have to come crawling back, but I don't see it that way. You never did. It's worth it if all works like hyperspace. It makes it so hard for me to cuh-cuh-cuh-catch my breath, but it helps that it's winter and the solidification of oxygen guides me on my quest.

A love letter addressed to me slides up to my feet and the violet lettering draws my eye. I press the glue to my lips and trace my tongue across it, knowing that yours was the last thing to seal it. Tea and juice are waiting for me on the inside. A sheer blush powders my face and my eyes turn to glass. You say it's lovely, but dolls are only pretty on the outside. The Titanic is sinking on the inside and tragedies are unfolding faster than Shakespeare can flick his quill across the parchment.

The light plays on your eyelashes when you look down. Pressure is crushing your vuh-vuh-vertebrae and you can't see the brightside anymore. He came back and you don't like being pushed aside. Like a lost toy, you lay their limp on the floor watching your caretaker play on the bed with a new one bitterly... oh so bitterly.

God is an alcoholic and he drinks your blood like wine to give himself life. Thousands of birds reside in his beard and rise him up to sunlight. Maybe he'll never sleep again... maybe he'll melt like wax all over the grass and make it green forever under our feet. We're opaque and the world is translucent around us.

We're dipped in gold but a tarnish creeps at our feet and licks them like our servant.

I left a pile of irises on the coffee table. They're wilting but I don't think you'll mind. Their death is always the most interesting part of their beauty in your eyes anyway. I wonder if we'll ever meet again when we part on the Primrose Path... You're with them and I'm with him, but I'm turning left and you're coming up to a cliff's edge. I want to turn around to guide you back to suh-suh-safety but my feet are stuck in this direction. the world rotates beneath me and I end up on a mattress with another. He's lovely and I am lost. But, lest, found in a wrinkle in time... or is that just a ruffle in the sheet. Which ever, I can see you coming back over the horizon and I lay complacent in my new habitat. It is warm and you'll join me soon. The sky is rose over my head, and it's not even the afternoon.