Lips tattered with melancholy
Plough through dancing eyes like burnished grace notes
In the crucible of wayward manuscripts
I think of you on moonlit evenings
Like a glittering downpour in a pastoral picture of December
Drunk and nocturnal
I am a Daddy\'s boy at heart
Wearing a mechanical star for every confession
Mr. How Can I Help You?
Mr. Asserting My Dominance
Isn\'t it strange
How quickly we forget and remember
When we were poets
Masturbating in the forest
I watch the nightjars and the acacias
Like dusk weaving through the milky trees
Cigarette ash spilling onto my jeans
You were playing your guitar in the rain
I was nectarine
Clawing through the bells of solitude
Downstream where gutted syllables revel
A myriad of roses breathe like dirt under my fingernails
In a pool of heather and blood
Adorned with pure sweat
Adorned with the vanity of luminous memories
Like a song I can\'t get out of my mind
A never-ending bliss, that Filth of Life
Kissing you slowly.