luno sur mia ŝultro, parto ses

Curled up in a small green tent
There’s a generator outside somewhere to my left
Whirring on just like my mechanical heart
And twice as heartless

But maybe the doctor’s done good this time
Because hidden within these blue sleeping bag sheets
I pray, I entreat the sky to send a lover down for a night
To still the storm between my legs

No doubt she’ll carve my heart out
And put it out on display
“Here lies Vane Vander’s hopes and dreams;
Curiosity leads to diving in the deep end
And spending love on anguish unseen.”

Maybe the church leaders spewing vitriol are right
Maybe I’m broken beyond repair
Separating the “wo” from “man”
And creating something new altogether

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