Last time I slept, I had a dream.
A vivid flower was stung.
Headless man encumbered the tree.
Fervor in her eyes was bleached
Last Time I slept, I had a dream
She was at the scullery
Then at the jade brothel
Shakti’s uninterrupted novel
Last time I slept, I had a dream
She was some sort of Gypsy Venus
She had that half-eaten aura
Eaten by the bugs of nepotism
I don’t sleep these days
Maybe I fear her
Maybe I lust for her
Maybe I love her
