The old mansion covered in graffiti, the very porous sleep away the heat on the street. Every corner of the city smeared by human touch. Flowers crushed into loose brick. Wire net bins cradle city trash. My stomach urgent. Breakfast for dinner again. Another fast storm and lightning. Solo pigeon sleeping on the edge outside my bathroom window. Solace while the night drops slow. Rainstorm cleans the streets. Birds dart for cover. So much for a dip in the pool. Overcast afternoons pulling my heart in the wrong direction. Back to where I denied love. And it's sick mistakes. To be kissed is to feel that you belong. To take a sensual trip into a piece of forever. My emancipated heart. Years have smoothed its dirty rainbow into a charm. Linked about the white gold chain of my life. Rain. The floor of my heart is soaked. Fluttered. Falling out of itself with sorry. Turn off the lights. You need to forget who I am. Our love has no face. In the stranded curriculum of the school of adoration. It's an erotic story with pictures. Once my heart was a train station built on a landfill. Now it's a palace built over a burial ground.