who'd you go to my life before facing the window shards with which
you operated upon yourselves like pinnochio's first religious experience
discovered motherfucking tangling shadows in icicles and skeletons
dissolving images of a trumped-up dance of velvet hands falls
on your face masturbating to a dirty letter i'd promised not to send
i'd promised to go somewhere else so long as you'd remain with me
in the back seat of your eyelids are foreign strange to me
i have felt friendship like you sold your swell story
to your romanian cyberstalker pissing yourself laughing