I look into the night, that wild blackberry tree
Growing limbs and peeling frogs from the bread factory
Oh, how industrial I am, a multitude of fantasy and confusion
Spitting at fools echoing fires of dizzying reality
I wander in my daydreams, breaking like a branch under the dark sky
My cold breath hangs in the air and I lose myself in the blur of the streetlights
Trying to get back to you, back to you
When I was a child I used to think the moonlight was following me
That I had to keep my feet close because monsters lived under my bed
And blood always made me queasy
But now that I\'m older I\'m learning to let the past go
To embrace the present, to love the idea of our uncertain future
Melting clock faces
In plastic seas of dying poets
The surreal surrender to our darkest desires
Consuming us like meticulous spiders
Breathing in, breathing out
Obscure and treacherous waves
The pulse width
Grey sunsets
My last painting
The putrid cave of dishonesty
Crumbling
Like rose petals
Learning to appreciate the little things
The way you smile and leave me dazed for a while
The morning fog
Climbing over the hills
Seascapes
Orgasms
Butterflies at midnight.