A hippie lighter inside my chest.
Wherever I go, I find this carpet of stars hanging over my head,
it never changes…it never leaves me alone.
A fool child believes in the presence of his close ones to be kept inside those emerging fireballs…
I too believe that.
Wherever I go this blank black nothingness will always provide me the closeness, the understanding and togetherness.
I have burned my woods long before I started to crawl through them,
now I just need something strong to drink and this upside-down wilderness to look up to.
Attentions make me sick…I came a manipulated man…but I am in my journey to achieve the endings; coloured and sketched in my terms.
The distant harmonica and I go…I go…I go…
I am still going…
the numbered stones are sidestepped,
I am going…
Tribal lands of sex and cremations…I am free from motionless relations,
I am still going just for the sake of it.

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Photograph: Melanee Buckley.