crackin' on the magic or

shoot the angel tethered to the grave

and the night presses against the tiny aspen

and the hunter's aim shifts

over shadow

over space


how's that for poetic lace?

a flutter to the bruise?

nah, your words only calm and stradle

thanks. i love you, too.


................






-another time-

forsaken.
on the back of the photo you wrote,
'they never came'.
another rite of passage -
the dark, white
surf, rushes our house by the sea

you ignite
the dangling from within;
this dreamed universe
extended.

I miss you:
ring-of-chandelier, hot-pin
.x.
gravel of sea-chatter
light in-this-s]hell

............

i know you hate indie.
but. this song reminds me of you.