PUREBLIND SCIENCE,
AND MY HEART IS DEAD
My retort to this is 'But at least I live on.'
If you could read my mind love, what
a tale my heart would tell. That guy singing
that stuff, I remember him too. But this is
the future and then is then. Now I've got
my brakes on this candle, waiting for a light
to go out. I'm wondering, cagey, and broken
and bent. You just touch your skin with
something sharp, it's going to bleed, and
bubble up, right away, a drop of blood
feeding itself. And who wants to walk
around like that, with a tankful of guilt
and a chrome cylinder of mischievous
dalliance tucked away as a note to oneself?
Just like a paperback novel; the kind
the drugstores sell...
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