The window creaks,
Moans, and regurgitates my thighs as I slip past,
Lubricant grasp, scrape knuckle to knuckle,
Shamelessly stale --

You're coldhearted.
The receiver's swinging at the hips of a stranger.

Memory, memory, memory,
In a falsetto I screech vividly.
You've pardoned me,
Prayed for me.
I've been drunk on the emotions of a sculpture.

Freak.

My choice, it was, to
Lead you (onto) the cliffs,
Bloody Murder!
the ghost giggled.

I'm leaving, leave, live –ing.
With small talk and a Webster's Dictionary.