Gone.

That's what I'll be. Deciding superficial means don't define me.
In senses lost to senses,
dilligence working like honey bees.
A day, a second.
Please, define me.
Supervise a soul scratched on sandpaper hands.
I'm incessant with my mouths, protruding skillfull insistance.

Backwards towel roll, roll towel.
The food of lions in my living room.

God. Oh God. Help.

Incessant honey bees.

Get out of my dreams.

Gone.

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