i put the warrant out for your arrest.
it was just a whisper on the phone,
"she ruined me officer.."

the honest sheild themselves with sheets
as a barracade to keep cotton arms grasping the heat.
but you're the liar,
you plugged your pores with steel and denied
your weakness in mortal flesh.
Q:         "what cold?"
A:         [the one you hide behind a glance.]

i'm placing bets with greedy gamblers,
"you don't feel a goddamn thing do you?"

this whisper = a scavenged scrap of fresh meat,
= the only thing left of my secrecy,
but when i find sleep i'll recover everything
(by losing sight of reality in the sinkhole of a dream.)

they, vultures, have taken my dagger.
my lone defense against rugged theives.
we are left ruined under a scavenger's crescent moon grin.
(the only scrap of light that sheds itself onto the grey sand.)