Placebo Your topography, little bird, your topography ebbs as the communist down the hall from my bed keeps candy in his opinion baits and baits separation with beats pulled from your teeth. Black fingers lidding the love tips of what won’t last, Perfect with Emptiness: “Isolate your spatial sex you pass that I fall into like a foot into a mile.” Imbalance of callouses tell you Big Brother is blind. The stone will hang from your cloud when you choose yours. There’s pavement between the cracks, there’s a reminder of what you’re for. I can’t say that I see you on the ground floor of my placebo going up. You’ll be in a perfect tense. I’ve always meant what I said. She’ll find a way in the harp of her notebook. You can’t make a mistake if you leave it alone. It’s Roman Dirge’s shades of mended light I love ...and you spend the life wondering what the girl’s made of? Sights set on sweet and sour sangria and stone in the stored born hands of sestina to loan. The stone will hang from your cloud when you choose yours. There’s pavement between the cracks. there’s a reminder of what you’re for. Perfect with Emptiness: “Mean what I say, say what I mean.” I’ll run over your glass roses with my steel limousine. All the burst witches tear the worst stitches. Love-- but not now. And cure it if you can. I can’t say that I see you on the ground floor of my placebo going up. You’ll be in a perfect tense. I’ve always meant what I said. I’ll find a way in the harp of my notebook. I can’t make a mistake if I leave it alone. I can’t make a mistake if I leave him alone. Love -- but not now. And cure it if you can. There’s pavement between the cracks. Fate