Ribs are exposed
My insides an eternal fall
Won’t catch them — you behold
Watch me melt further than the ground
I am already by the shore
You are looking up and pointing an arrow
to my heart
Looking up and pointing an arrow
to my heart
But won’t catch it, no, you won’t catch it
When it falls

Our menace
has the color of gemstones
Sharp eyeballs
escorting the activity of our separated hips
Mr. moonshine potion,
Steer the virtue of your vice
Rectify my desolation by a sip

Along with your tattooed skin
An orchestration for orchids appears
When this ardor of mine is rejected
It ceases.

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