Seating heedless on this artful chair
Of some loathing, putrid wood
It feels down to a deceitful sleep (it feels like fall(ing) in a…)
As nails are to drill through…
She wants me to rot, waiting
Lying heedless on its (her) artful cloth
Creaking, tottering, as I snore
Dizzy I tremble at her laughs.. oh!