Misty-eyed she sighed
In me she chooses to confide
she'd make a beautiful bride.
Porcelain princess once pretty as pink
Had too many disco biscuits I think
she' s unconscious now, by the sink.
I stepped over her to get my drink.
She does have nice ink though.
It seeps through her veins in a puddle on the kitchen floor.
Deep in a chemical dream, all gossamer and green,
To wake her up now would be obscene.
She will rise eventually
on her own steam.
