in spite of the itch in your tonsil
you gather fruit still
sit pretty on the windowsill
cast spell form a sigil
in spite of the inertia
this nasturtium feeds a thirst
i feel a blurse working
firm up the curtains
i come around on some half-truths
sip a couple of some sour brews(/uise)
say some shit like
"if i did i'm afraid that(/and) i may have mislead you"
days in bed, who knew this bruxellois-wah got me boo-hoo?
ash on the sheets, we were lines in the twill
kept half an eye on the fruit on the sill
i watched your peach go soft in the sun
i could slice up half an apple
we'd take turns nibbling the afternoon away
the fear sets in as dusk comes
losing lightness each passing day
we could sit here in your bedroom
we'd burn effigies to make our play
closer and close but never touch
never slept through the night
never let me out of sight
never rest til each cell filled
never stressed never chilled
never swept up the mould on the sill
above all never left a drop spilled
in spite
you'd an old-world preference, learned on the vine
solved our differential, an ex is just change over time
found our function in the sunken in, each day we desist
couple rows so we could pop our cysts
as though the puss'd bust right out of the tryst
i come around so we can both play chemist
couple powders and we hide our blemish
i come around bunged up speaking phlegmish
i could slice up half an apple
we'd take turns nibbling the afternoon away
the fear sets in as dusk comes
losing lightness each passing day
we could sit here in your bedroom
we'd burn effigies to make our play
closer and close but never touch
