Cutting ribbons that guard Faith herself –
I got more deadlines than Death.
My car’s a lemon, my flat’s a bucket:
fuck it – I’ll make lines out of that.
Reading into things, things that ain’t there
and I’m in love with passersby:
so long, my sober, thought-through day.

My brain’s a seedy porn store
and believe you me, the credit’s endless.
I am all hell to pay,
my own bouncer at each door
and so far from playing it safe:
if the pearly gates are open, they can wait.
My eyes are a stream, swim up skirts
and sin is just a human convention;
words for words, touch for touch
and tit for tat in a brutal world.

I want to violate in ways permissible,
push to the bounds and stop;
make keepsakes off a sober silence,
walk with fingers the high ‘n narrow pass;
and trace the river to there
where the water’s not shallow;
I want to and I want you.