This is only a mess if we accept that it is,
so lay down and let me love you
amongst our complacency.
Instead of worrying, let’s put all our efforts
into going extinct in this spot:
amongst the hallmarks of our existence.
Let’s lay until we get too thirsty,
and smell from bad hygiene,
Let’s have bed-sores from snuggling.
If you stay with me, I will devote my novel
to your high-score on Tetris
and we can hum the tune for years.
1 comment:
Tolstoy couldn't write about MY high score on Tetris.
Post a Comment