argue the moon

arguing the moon and hanging on 
to loose tooth skin sucking 
the dull ache of our blue gone black 

to argue color is to color all 
a fall between black and blue 
(which direction am i facing?) 

sky let go is space cold and airless 
flight turning to free falling 
away; lunatic swimming 
(which direction is true?) 

a daydream dolled up in desire's skin 
sooner or later (and no one knows when) 
we're bound to have at it again 

so on with some it (or half it, if less) 
and so on (if not better) then perfectly fine 
like (i'll be yours if you'll be mine) 

we'll zip up pur skins and and persue happy (ruthless) 
(nothing for it but to continue on toothless)