Old walls and the same shadows I have seen for so long

Small room on the skywards side of the house where all clouds and sun pour in and I never shut

the blinds because the branches are a curtain when I crane my head so I do that and feel like anything

pushing the cat with my feet picturing where it would like to be

If there was one thing I could change it would be no stupid questions or no right answers

Old walls and old words, getting sober... my room lies and says I'm getting sober! Feeling much better but you can't picture it

she rubs ice on her tits but you can't picture it why can't this be more attainable more ordinary the drips run down melting in water-guides to the good bits for us a traveller - milk-lover

Satin eyelids I am sure she is strong enough travelling here on a storm - what a way to travel!

had her tattooed on me regretted it but didn't know why

foreign places we went to had no idea we spat out all the shells I fell from a car in Rome and saw a lady with thick black eyebrows

Ice melting on tits that is me and how I exist I think in the wake of something great dwarfed by barren dunes arid desert of pores a glazed justice bead sizzling to a veil of sores hot place on your legs

hold it

the ice melted so I went back to the house and slept with a giant woman in the morning I ate grapes and rubbed my hands proud sick so proud and so sick rapacious grape defiler