as a society
we drop like flies
feeling more docile
unresisting to all these visions
asking to for bare any solitude

if bereavement should come for me
speak to me again on my cradle of darkness
that you'd like me to matriarch your heir
and clutch my still beating auricle
and breathe your entity into me
so that I may stay my course
and allege my adulation for you

Inside the walls of this apartment
I should examine you
in your ardency and fervor
pacing the mezzanine
imploring that eternity be ours alone
and if I should decend to martyrdom
then I know you would chase after
And you should know best...
hope falls short of fingers
That don't have the strength to reach.