Down

Stroke 9

frozen fingers on my skin

guilty hands clutching gin your tin, thin

eyes can't see within soul to soul, shin

to shin we burn



and the silence won't subside as i

crawl to your scaly side your eyes

could never hide my eyes and all their

pride



carving out a piece for me saving

three for you squeeze me tight and

that's all



my shoulder to your face so warm

dim light from moon outlines our form

sinewy and shiftless and so forlorn

between here and there and

everywhere you're torn waiting for

you to call out my name speak to me

and say that it's alright to be on the

wrong track