vibrancy like a hairball, stash kaput,

so wade into the water to the beat of the bronze, bismarck,

recovery is irresistible. it is fair that sometimes you

risk your wrists for me,

forgive me that i am not grateful enough.

(try your throat) maybe we could meet halfway,

not in the sun or in the shadow,

but where twilight roams, in the lost;

maybe you could take my hand and walk me over stones

where dead trees decay. but hold me so that i do not

decompose to satisfy the earth's hunger.

hold onto me until i want to go.

thank you, bismarck,

you know how it is

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