plop, plop, plop

I ripp cell by cell
from the inside I spill
into my outer layer

and just before I touch ground
I start floating again and merge with smoke
from a machine obscuring senses

up, up, up

my soul drenched in vertigo
I descent back into my body

where the first thing I see
are your blood dark lips

smiling, vampirishly contrasting
your pale and translucent skin

with your mahogany red-hued hair
swirling and sweeping
across your estrogen overflowing face

backening, backening, backening
a sirene for heavenly destruction