The world was a bicycle for sale, with flat tires and no seat.

Her only memory was of Hunson Abadeer in Key West,

where the strawberries tasted like kissing lips,

he had asked her, "In the final glance,

do you think the deer forgives the wolf?"

The deer may forgive the wolf, but

She doesn't forgive the world.

A man that walked like the smell of fog came forth.

He looked like a wayfarer who might've gone to college.

His faded hand felt like iced leather around her hand.

She was wary, as the other men she'd met were hagged,

They were fiends stranded without love or remorse.

She'd just met him, but she loved him, with all of her soul..

Because she was young, and she would live forever.

He thought her voice was inviting, like boneyard gates.

She'd sleep on his shoulder, thinking that he smelt

Like the spine of an ancient tome that was long since forgotten.

He was lost in his bony, labyrinthian mind, because

he was cursed and he was living for her.

She wasn't alone anymore, but she was becoming

More lonely than she'd ever been before.

My old man is a bad man, but

he's got a soul as sweet as blood red jam,

and he shows me, he knows me,

every inch of my tar black soul.

He became feyer by the day, his skin faded,

Turning the color of a blue hydrangea.

Et je mourrais sans toi, je tuerais pour toi.

She heard him whisper like a cat in the dark,

and there was no answer but pattering rain.

The weighty curtains of destruction and naiveté

shrouded her eggshell mind, but

they brushed away the cobwebs that lay dormant in his.

The apocalypse sky sneered at the aging man,

"You need to save her, but who's going to save you?"

Marceline pretended to sleep, but

she knew what he was going to do.

Goodbye, Simon, she whispered as he drifted away.

Only the fey sweven can sough through

the basement of the subconscious like the way

her inky tresses ghosted his nightmares.

He will come back to her, in his time of need,

but, he won't remember her at all.

In his cavernous soul, Simon will always keep her,

the way the barren world kept its unworldly

and unwilling children, giving them only ephemeral guardians.