The Machinery Second Edition | Page 45

my innermost thoughts even betray me I do not want to be the thing I become when I sleep the fear of sleep my thoughts now betray me in daylight I remember nights entangled with women who are not you I remember love not like the love I have of you these visions are palely attractive washed-out images from mind, scrapbooks I have not opened in many months I stroke the skin you touched the last time you reassured me of our love it burns through my stomach 45