And wake, and wake, and wake, from that dream of drowning in the lake from escaping air and waters weight pressing down hard held in place. Puckered mouth cheek... read more
Those hands, I have not yet touched. I imagine they'll be calloused, warm and tender covered in paint, smelling of guitar strings and cigarettes thoughtful with artistic furrows... read more
Relax sky's wide open it draws near gates' flex whines pushing ... read more