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My Solitude MAG
How many more days
till I can call you mine?
I wait
as the moon hangs in the sky,
a bloated orb that fills my eyes,
a waning splinter in my heart.
And I wait
as the sun burns the east.
The hard stars regard me
with cold detachment,
and mock my solitude
as the Spam rots in its
tamper-proof case.
But where are you,
oh, serpent of my seas?
I die a little more each day without you,
as the sun burns and burns,
and the Spam turns green
with shared despair.
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