Shuteyed on my recliner
Trying to rebuild the ego that died
Star-predated night
Dark eating light leaking
Skylight visions of fist-hungry cuntlike Christwounds against twilit vistas
Pilot was twisted on drinks, no mixers
Pilate fixed on the flickering image of tripled sixes
Visitors knock twice so I know they’re not spies
She walked in just as I was about to find it
I slammed shut the binder
Call me wild-minded but I call that suspicious timing
When you loved me, you had me kiss your glove at night
Lost minds, why not? Lost mine.
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