When you caught sight of yourself
because you couldn’t come to terms
And be at one with your eight weighted arms
that would’ve Once flayed a fleurs.
at ten squirts of you must of known
your hotter than a blue dye cuttle washed
up in worcester with a train to board
A mountain in plain sight.
– can you scrub you hand’s of cosine –
In the throws of cordial invite to make
War over love for two of everything
From photo opportunitys too deck chairs
If my heart was a wheel would you steal
It and place me on building blocks.