This enchanted realm is theming dust again
Honey you're my last remaining breath
You're the ending beating of my chest
You're so much more the darkness than the light
I can feel the ways you move me when I'm sleeping
How awake am I to still be dreaming
We're falling through strings of seasons
And I have trouble breathing
Your face burns delicate sculpture overlooks
And it hurts.
It hurts to see us getting old
It hurts that distance time and life can hold us
I still pray
Not to something or someone
But of thanks for my dear friend
Heaven's Gonna Be In Hell Tonight
Every single curve is planning
You like chemicals working out
I like the washboard effect
I like your ankle angles
That's heaven
Seeing you smile
Sunday driving roads the hills take
Camping, waking, making eggs
Knowing art better than museums
When people ask I tell them
You're an angel's type of devil
Pissant At An Old Atomic Age
When I look back
On mitigated sanity logic wielded near
I throw my hands
On secrets of the blind man's world
Leading to us here
When I go back
Recreate the summer days sunken in my head
There's too much there
Love gushes running flooding out
Mighty as a pen
When I return
The sky has learned its tricks
We give requests
Answered in the bells chimed right above our heads
When the world is gone
Let rubble be a nesting place
Of water and the wind