I can’t be loved because I’m a knife
And you want a slice of me…
You may rejoin watching me
Dancing trough lavender fields
Like a foreign lover…
You may find a perfume in my skin
That I always had,
A bit of glamour,
A distant solitude that rimes with sunset by the sea
While eating escargots or seafood…
And I’ll be glad, you know
Overwhelmed…
Till one of my demons start whistling a requiem
By dinner time…
I’m a knife, my love
And I want to spoon you from your abyss
But I’m to damm scared to cut you in two…
You wanna spoon me too
As if madness could be extracted, like a fly,
From a letter’s soup…
But you can’t!
Stop being a Jane Birkin
I’m bitter because I have too…
I Love you!
But I’m just a cube meal…
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