Myopia has brought a dystopia
Pleasure or pain
I feel no difference
It’s all the same
Hoping for something more
Tricking myself I still have a core
My eyelids screen a sort of sex utopia
Squirting her release
I’m a wounded warrior and a sick voyeur
Can you hear me cry my love?
It’s me…not that purple dove
Hoping for something else…
Only tightens the noose around my neck
It’s very atmospheric indeed
Specs of me, traces of old-gold
Breaking my perfect mold
Floating into the ethereal
Without knees to kneel
Atmospheric Indeed
