Purple flames bounce off your temples, 

And your bending air with every kick of your tongue.

The cement under your toes begins to fall into the earth, 

And I do believe it is the time of day when the steam piles 

Into the fabric of your vinyl seats.

The security of your hands beneath green waters slips away, 

And you cannot stand the feeling of your limbs floating with no reason.

Recovering from your overdose of infidelities, your eyes became whiter,

But you denied they’re purity.