So I fill my gut with dark red wine until my brain shuts off and my eyes go blind. You won't see me there in that thick black air. I'll finally make something disappear because I've been practicing disappearing and I think that I've got it down. But now there is no sun, just a cellar nowhere is sky, it's just that black, black dirt expanding outwards, just echoes for answers, not that it matters if it's back or it's forwards.

Unhappy lovers with baskets of flowers, use them as markers, the place where your bed once stood. A time when it still felt good but you'll get that feeling back you just need some time to drink
and so I'll fill my gut with that blood red wine, until my insides swim and my veins unwind. I'll be lying there in that hot white air once that something is gone it might never reappear.