You still have your stiff needle in my vein.
The pleasure and the pain go on and on:
on, off; on, off. Each switch, each maggot doubt,
turns merry-go-round, turns.... Turn out the light.

You pour another drink into my glass.
"Take it or leave it" the words purr - they're false:
a blind man would take an eye, would take two;
and i would trade your parting for hello.

The dance, the pendulum, the to and fro
DNA couples, twists, and cleaves in two
young lovers tup, though no one taught them how
the itch calls for scratch; scratch makes itch more sore.

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