I don’t want to drift away or apart,
I don’t want to fuck to stay warm,
Or because it’s easy.
A simple vexation reaches through a cold room,
Like channeled heat.
I don’t want to die for the wrong reasons
Or far too early.
I don’t want to think about those things
That effect other things.
I can’t deliberate on the nature of gifts, because isn’t it gift enough to live half way decent if only for a few days?
Comentarios
Deja tu comentario: