The Narcissus

In a world with no heroes

I wear shades of pale and

the fragile airs my mother showed me.

I'll show you reflections

while you play with all your dissafections

and reach for your face

painted on me.

Your canvas in waiting

I'm fresh for all these pretty things

you show for yourself when you are hunting.

You smile, try to hold me

I`m cold too the touch but still you want me

and how could I have lived

without your making me.

Hands peel at clothes

your head turns, coy, we pose and dance, I show

unprecious things, parades of glamour, fame and lies and dreams, your mouth says:

fuck me.

fuck me.

Your lips moving slow, the taste

of you alone, of glass and bone

an empty world, an empty hole

just you and me and us and we and

I, I, I, I, I.

fuck me.

fuck me.