45*21

this time we'll dance beyond the ragged screen
dream beyond the mildewy dream
farm out our thoughts to a gambling over achiever
slip into the silence of our toothless gums
jeopardize the very things we love to hate
play the discord to the bitter end
seat the couch beyond its thread
play the chord beyond its tolerance
go to places we'll never come back from
hear the hushed voices in the shadow of our periphery
order another glass of bitter wine
claw at the very idea of existence
stand at the edge of our doom
laugh at the echoes that laugh at us
sustain the little silences
pull back just enough to see
light of day from the bottom of the well
blow out the candle of disgust
play Russian roulette with our doppelganger
while making love to our own faded image
and call it an afternoon