HBd by Ethan Lesley CC Lyrics

i've heard rumors about your new lovers, whispered
in the corners of Poseidon's chambers; contoured–
all of them playful– ye fin'lly get who you deserve,
and maybe i have lain with ten, maybe fifteen
smaller men, with three dozen mayfairs packs
burned in motels sheets, in dingy city streets,
and every fifteenth of a second, i mutter
your nest under my breath; i curse at your hold
and your power under my breath; celebrating

your stillborn birth had been very much what the world does best
'cause you loved best 'til you loved them less, and you loved less
because i ruled less in the towns you've been committed
and convicted into building– i only abide into hollow-
blocks contrived; i only saw my sorrow; i only listened to pride;

and ride, the gull did, after finally seeing:
a streak on the white dew; a billow on the dress;
a grave full of dull, unidentifiable bodies without lovers,
without dreams, without visiting families; i asked for a sip
from your hipster salt-water cup and you gave me a key
and a stolen trident; the rumors are unfair; the truth,
more so inconvenient;
you gave me the ocean so i give the ocean now back to you;
i prefer my escaping; happy thirtieth, and to new whispers to shoot