i'm your god
a hairy hand
gripped my shoulder and
caressed by longing's sun,
on the melodic line
of a kaleidoscopic thought,
prognosticating so
the debauchery comportment
of my insomnia, while
it whispered to me tenderly, —
(i'm your god…),
(i give it to you whatever
you could wish for…)
(do it… try me…)
…
[well, seems I must have
the eyes wide open
while i'm thinking of you]