be it the change of a tired man clasped with his finishinglines of debit
cutting loose the noise that cleam the bag from his moister mind


would you say
theres not much to say


"""
im tired
writing letters adresssed to fire
"""
winters alive
as the temper of sudden youth
""
if you do not step inside the dome
get all right be all right, sleep then still,
""
do get off at your stop
but turn you head and stare
on the tunes
of your own conventions
"""
all be night all be in the black
not bone blight or fucked to the brim
I am never sure how much of it
we can let it"

i am here with you, within
and I will be alone with if you count to ten
it's when you stop to pretend
and feel my love as I left you an end