Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Every day is just another match spent
On cigarettes i've given up for lent
Every night is my suspended spine
silhouetted in a room of fire

Your eyes are folding through the rays
the dark sun is pale
Your body echoed through the rain

In image swallowed by chronophage
Cup the moonlight to keep it safe
I can never try to relate
to the incessant troubling makes me dissapate