| The television static makes for a wonderful peepshow My makeshift window to the heart of elysium I'm a vouyer of scrambled skin Maybe an elbow or a leg Maybe her breasts bending and distorting on the television screen I hear the sound of heavy breathing And sexual indulgence Bodies entwined with each other Bending and moving in convulsions I hear the sounds of cockroaches Crawling across the kitchen tile Scowering the floor For the scraps that had fallen out of everyday routine Searching for pieces of heaven Even if it's only a taste They always find a way To get their fix |
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