What's left to speak when dreaming dulls reality,
when reality dulls the dream?
Close enough to empty of any thought or word,
dip the *****, blunt needle in your rust,
Bind my mouth shut.
In your blood, I bet the years you've seen drag on,
evaporate your red count.
Those dry reminders, penetrate my flesh with them,
weave them as your thread.
I lost my own way long ago,
now need your denouement.
Don't be gentle.