We’re staring at the second hand. And messages from foreign lands. There’s blood on me, there’s blood on you. It’s killing me, it’s killing you. . Sinking slowly drifting through this falling lan
Four walls. Two of us. My feet. And a window to the street. . Paintings. Stare at me. They're not yours. There's your necklace on my arm. . Cubicles and cotton reels. The hum of the machine