"All of our maps are lost in the wind... life on a grey seacoast, snowsailing into the deep December lavender of a heartbeat's cadence... music of the sea, stars, drugs, dreams, soft nothingness treasured..." (words from a lying mouth)
"What is there to say?"
thinking, overthinking, forcing thoughts into forms: & the rain still falls. the fog builds, only to fade under the sunlight, sundered like faith's vanguard. and where are we now? who are we now?
"What is there to say?"
clothe me in black; wind me in the cloth... lies can become something more than what they are. back to belief. we are lost, searching for something... but what?
"What is there to say?"
the battle is over. there are no absolutes... there are only dreams wearing flesh. i've fought in the battles, only to desert when i learned what the war was for. my colors fade... black into grey. my hair grows long, tangled. my beard grows gnarled.
"What is theretosay
there's nothing left. each to their own. left to drown, instead he accepted the sea. murky underwater pulse. strangely attuned to the heart. his eyelids floated away, flapping like some strange underwater bird. no more becauled...
