There’s a place I want to live -
where a peaceful thunderbolt will sear my true heart
and give birth
to silent control.
Where fragments of frenzied feelings warm sober shadows and the future disappears in flames of burning acid.
“And to see everything else is to become an understanding molecule in evolution.”
Be grateful your memories don’t reach this far back.
“But what’s the reason for living if you know what’ll happen when you die?”
This place is a promise of passion and an absence of self-made scars -
not absolution, but an end of reality.
Self-consuming begins at the wrists, your soulmate’s brains scattered all over the pavement -
and desire lives in constant construction, throwing stones at the window that is forever and dancing in a pool of blonde ecstasy.
Are you growling because you’re annoyed or because you want me to stop trying to smooth things with my empty advice?
They’ve started a fire that can only be put out with an atom bomb.
Can you look at a beautiful evening sky and forget about what man has created?
This place is a pulse across the stars, a tool of the universe that expresses disdain for Eros’ tranquil search - and I’m waiting for another love-light to fall from the rays of the blinding sun.
I wish I could whisper your name to you,
over the trees in your backyard,
under the waves that are the ocean of your death,
and through the crackling fire we make love next to.
Let’s start deep in the shallow waters
and forget ourselves and remember everything else.
This madness is deafening -
but
“we know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that there’s more out there than anybody ever let on.”
We know we must find the ashes and start all over with a shot to be heard round the world.
For that, she sweeps my very throat, dry and disgusting, and paints a picture of my loving arms.
My fingers are swollen tonight - things have been a little unbalanced.
Fantasy hangs from a perpetual tempered age when you stopped talking me.
