"Want a ride down?" Jorge asked.
"I'm gonna walk, get some air."
"How do you think Eddie's gonna act?" Jorge asked.
"Won't be here to see."
"Don't you think it could be a bit..."
"Jorge
...
[+]
Knowing you by touch alone—
A relief of scales, a battle-scarred carapace
Wrapped around your fiery bones.
The mist would cling to us
Like a skin after I sloughed mine off.
In relentless fog, I would teach myself rebirth
Away from curious eyes.
You would know me by touch alone—
Raw skin, sticky ectoplasm
As I learned to reconstruct myself
In the cradleland of blind prophets,
Penumbral dreamtides,
And abyssal monsters
Of which I would love you most.