I spotted you three times in Soho,
and later in my dreams.
I was on your bed, I was in your sea.
Treading water again it seems.
I chewed on those rose lips,
and devoured that pert mouth.
I swallowed your tasty pledge,
and now I'm full on doubt.
Now, one breath too short,
catching butterflies in a fist.
I am running leaves above my head,
reciting your every twist.
Your early sentiment wakes me,
I find it upside down.
It throws me twice against the wall,
To hear those breaking sounds.
But all I need are fingertips,
to dial that one last call.
And remind these bleeding limbs of mine,
You are never worth the fall.
