I want more but my mind is too dumb with drunkenness...
I am only able to hold on to your words when you are gone and then all I'm left with are pieces. Shall I try to put them together or leave them scattered like the brown eggshells you've had to step on to reach me?
Lying between these foreign sheets, in this darkness, I feel strangely safe despite the cavern of unknown. This transience will soon be but a spicy memory. You are saffron and cinnamon ginger and flavors I didn't know existed. You're like eating a cake with a stone in the center, breaking my teeth.
Stop holding on to you - I try to - I already feel linked like a chain around my neck.
I've already lost love but am I gaining any, here with you?