I watch him take my heart in hand
Twist and compress it until finally
He has fashioned a stylus for himself
Now, he etches away fragments of thoughts
Pieces of mysteries which never found their proper context
Which barely made it out of his head
Across my exposed, torn chest
He tattoos me to make me his own
Now I belong to him
And I have no say in the matter
I watch him take that same heart-stylus
And crumble it into dust
All the while chanting
Saying the desert simply isn't large enough without this
All the while chanting
Saying I lacked the constitution to contain the both of us
So, now that my chest is open to the desert he's created
I have an infinite capacity for "us"
He delivers these last lines lines about "us"
As his figure develops into a miniscule pixel on the far horizon
As he becomes the same dust as the now-disintegrated stylus
Free to blow as far from here as the east is from the west
I know now that I'll never see him again
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