Port of Call

Standing barefoot by the window
I see the moon in all her loneliness
through the spiral of my cigarette
she lights and shades a cloud
silk scarf, caressing her round shape
time leaks
and a compulsively vomiting bullimic ashtray

I need you
and yet I hate to accept it
I need your air to breathe
there's nothing more for me
than the wetness of your kisses
and the stream between your thighs

call me
I’m like a leftist cero
like an empty ballon
like a ship on the open ocean
without a compass or direction

please, call me
I’m so defenseless
I have no more will
I just can’t seem to focus
and I can’t seem to find a way out

A thousand crazy thoughts
that I had never conceived
come to mind in waves
and this time, hurting as I am
I must accept
that I need you just to stay alive
that I'm not just in love with you
but I'm completely lost
and if you don't call me
there'll be no port of call