revolve my interest in a barrel of tomorrows
sweater over my eyes
yellow like the days of innocence i long for connection.

disorient the taste; elm city and the will of a faker
floods abound. they were never around but
i dissolve in this worship.
poison to my throat masquerading as release
intoxication so euphoric / arroz con mexicano.

this is the way i count my stones
in the oxygen i climb.
sobriety passes in lonely hours
this is a way to die.