all

ten - ii. longer, longer, longer

ii.
I lick away the youth from
your palm like a grey-eyed
hound, wanting more
Let me borrow, let me live

Longer
longer
longer

Methuselah, not the grandfather,
not the one from the bible, but
the one-sweet-tooth, sleepiest
hill, whiskey-breath-that retched
wishes on my chest

Yes, you-

of course, the land is yet to wake
We are the ones yet to sleep
And yet, and yet