Saturday, February 12, 2011

My walk is a solar bed.

You were a line and i was a close desire,
pushing clocks over my direction. in distant sounds.
i'm a drop, tiny spot.
minute one
my love is on fire
starting again.
both signs point to my sea
and we've been down to something morning never sees.
i've got my night-step in your bed
and you're a drop, inside a glass washing sand or snow.
i've got voices over dark sides afraid to be undercovered.
keep us on nothing. keep us on their very nothing.
staying out is another blanket over the light of my sea.
even a bottle can affect skin, reality is too soft to be seen.
complicate my mind, reality is soft but they can't see. they can't even see.
so keep us nothing.
barely saving machine. saving pain, serving magic.
but i'd like to be unspoken. with you.
a white room dressed in letters, black we may all be
'cause we're made of objects
objects made to kill.

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