Oh, dear.. |
I would like some milk
From the Milkman's wife's tit...
I'm in a torn place
The ragged edge of a ripped paper...
A verbal shove.
Testing the limits so sternly set...
Too close (physically) for words to come between
You and I alone...
Empty evening sunlight filters through slanted...
Conflicting with the sad flickering light of the...
I spend too much of life mourning it. |