in the crack we hop
over lack we stop
you stir, I stir, we blur
the illusion of texture is strong
we could argue long
your high cut collar rages: cigarettes, NEON lights, lost wages
I sleep with crumbs and dumbs and sympathy
what I lack is all I need
forthwith we tip, with thrill you spill
with caution, I hide in the sea
layers of depth, like space on land
I float and transform to me
