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