Come To Me

The moths hover nearby
My light, they can't see,
I'm a dog with bad blood
I'd die for a flea.
Adrift in a black boat
Firing black flares,
I lie prone and rot well,
But the vultures don't care.
Dripping sad nectar,
The bees stay away,
I'd show you my toys,
But you won't want to play.

?2001