That magic time when real is mixed with fake
as dreams have overtaken truth once more,
and every fictive bend is in the make,
yet we believe that we were here before,
some cities dangerous and strange appear
with streets to wander in while getting lost,
there is no telling if the end of it is near:
the purpose of these nights is to exhaust.
But once a while the dreams will take us there
to places full of paradise delight
with waterfalls and flowers everywhere
and this is time when we enjoy the night.
Some hours we may spend between the sheets
away from trouble and from other’s needs.
I need bones, flesh, skin and clothes
to make me person,
but I can do without those
in the long run.
Just don’t expect me
to look much better,
only my thoughts.
Only my name.
Only my longing for you.
You need my bones, flesh, skin and clothes
to see me person.
That is the deal
and I deliver.
Bloody mess every month
three weeks on end, forty days even,
cramps, thick blood lumps
of what looked like grapes
came out of me
and pink sausages
that didn’t give me appetite,
lots of fatigue and dizzy spells,
pools of blood where ever I sat
so the doc gave me the birth control pill
and it worked.
But now I cut my finger.
Is there a pill for stupid?