The fields remind me of a Van Gogh painting
A submersion, an impression, a watercolour remembrance
A balloon on a string with the way your body moves
A blight, a stain on love
Yes, they do. Yes, they do
So I say these things out loud, miraculous butterflies of hope
A bicycle on the hill by the overgrown forest
Where I was bleeding my swan song in a photograph of autumn
Looking through the blinds
A suicide hazard in a naked cafe, words melt on your ice-cream tongue
Little mirrors, little oceans, little shadows
A boy in a dream
A boy in a dream of Africa
He can teach me, teach me how to be a charming man
But he can\'t teach me how to be a poet, how to understand
The words flowing from my heart
6 a.m. my tired eyes spring open to the calm lull of morning traffic
Birds singing songs of heartbreak by pale blue skies
Close your eyes and open them to surprise
A crumbling heart that can\'t be fortified, cries
When the room is blue and I long for the touch of you
Circumstantial pollution, the world that never bloomed
We open our mouths to summer
Tie ourselves together with hope
Poppy meadows and doublespoons
Shoreweed and moth fountains of soft chalk
Soft earth, looking at each other as we lay dying
As I lay dying.