I’m kind of lost,
It’s late in the day,
Or night,
It’s all the same.

Groping about in the dark,
Feeling with hands,
Seeing with ears,
Vanished world.

I’m kind of lost,
It’s his touch alone,
Day or night,
He’s insane.

Groping at my body, meat,
Feeling with his flesh,
Seeing with his eyes,
Vanishing heart.

I’m kind of lost,
It’s his hand that guides,
Day or night,
His tongue.

Groping at my need, muted,
Feeling with icy fervour,
Seeing, that voyeur,
Vanishing speech.

I’m kind of lost,
It’s his tongue and eyes,
Day or night,
His organs.

Gouged out my eyes and tongue,
Feeling dependent on him,
Seeing no more,
Vanished soul.

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