Somewhere between this bench and the tabletop,

I am staring down at my fraying jeans.

Threads that dangle, strangle instensity and there's an absentee thought

swirling outside of my brain.

If it's anything like an absentee landlord, I am slowly going insane

and the plaster is coming with me



But I can't let myself go

Because "let" is a word reserved for SHITHOLES like this one

Crawl inside me and make your nest.

You can live here, I'll take a risk.

I'll try my best to understand and to hope that you won't

BREAK MY LEASE.



Paint and plaster is crumbling, falling with the market value,

peeling surface bare, like flesh in the sun. With you, I feel so exposed

But I guess I am covered, I guess I am insured

I guess I cam covered by these fraying jeans!

The paint is falling, the point is slipping, my hems are missing

and I am wondering what this all means.



But I can't let myself go...



I want so much to ask you for some collateral

like the back of your hands, your teeth, your smile.

It has bought you time before. It has bought you time before, I can tell

And now I'm SLIPPING TO MY KNEES

I'm SLIPPING TO MY KNEES

I'm SLIPPING TO MY KNEES

And not in a sexual way

No I am not

Slipping down to pray

No I am not