There’s this significant black in my walls,
cause I miss your damped hair.
I have seen red fish in your salt water.
I have seen that from the first time I went on stage,
Millions of blushes, lights through my eyes and all reflections there after…
Fools were there, alcoholisms were there, damned solitary rains peeped,
and I disoolved into the turbulence. your turbulence.
You told me to confine myself within the songs of every muscles of every soul…and never spit a word for the Oblivion of mountains,
And now, I do the same…I tell people to shut the fuck up for a moment and listen to the lullabies of vanilla deaths.
You could see I have gone miles for words and from words,
you made this nonchalant sculpture for that feeling, for that rail printed roads,
and you put that between our echoing frequencies for a summer sex.
I wrote a letter for a matchbox after that,
You went for the woods, I made the fire
and a forgotten afternoon took you away…
My love I have found the madness of wood cutting…
I know my woods now.