I’m sliding down your skyline like Tom fkn Cruise,
no stunt wire, just the spark in my shoes;
heartbeat loud as a box-office boom,
smashing every take in the blaze of your room.
Lens flare in your eyes, cut—perfect reaction,
I leap from the roof of your late-night attraction.
No CGI kiss, no green-screen excuse,
I’m real-time reckless, like Tom fkn Cruise.