It’s coming from the places of fire circles and strumming maze…

For the dancing of my eyes and for the nights in my body. 

I am on my knees… 

Honey, I am not inspired. 

‘But babe I have seen you…you make more money when you are not inspired…it’s good, it’s for the orange suns of tommorow…don’t be inspired.’ 

But it’s coming…it would demolish me…it would make me a nightcrawler over dead dusts… 

It would make me to have sex with you for days and nights and for forests, for staged cities. 

I can’t make it to that place with you baby…

A North wheel of insane maze is coming, I am going to make that my bedroom for intangible clocks worth of time.  

But there will be a purple hole in me for you…

I would make you the moon, the vulnerable conflictions, the hookers…I would make you the words… 

‘don’t forget to take your whiskey and your cigarettes and your dilemmas and your twisted and tampered manhood with you…they are gonna need you there.’ 

Okay, goodbye.