With Eyes Like Candytuft

I've tasted death and it tastes like desire. Fears haunting me like an addiction.
Blue blooming.
Tiger spots and moss and morning dew. Coming back to you, back to this loaded gun, this madhouse of laughter. Teeth sinking into memories of summer days. Hungry for you. Craving you. 
I wander like an invisible string past the roses where the moonlight reflects on the water. Surrendering to you. The serendipity of the lonely night. I am drunk and dreamlike, tugging at the dregs of reality.
Blood rushes to the tip. I drink beer and think about ass. Making bubble baths with my beard. What have we made out of these red-letter-days? Morning bliss and milk spilled and Dutch courage. Waxing and waning with eyes like candytuft. 
I see the whiteness of angels in dunes. Jasper boys. Dirty boys. Broken-hearted boys. The moonlight bleeding like ribbons, like the bittersweet taste of nostalgia. A painting of life tapering into a whimpering breath, and the realisation we are only getting older. 
The push and pull of meditations in long grass are forgotten years we never truly explored. Love we adore and things I take for granted. Late nights walking home in the rain. Daydreams of romance. The punctuality of a piano. Pleasure sculpted from marble. The spirit of Glasgow. 
In dark rooms, I think of you like a permanent scar in my tortured mind. 
My dreams bulge like a stiff cock in denim jeans, like a relic at high altitude. I've made a mountain out of you, and seen the sentimental erosion, the salt of every poem, poison seeping from the soft edge of dying dreams. 
I hated the world, I hated that I'm in it. I wanted to peel it like an orange and be done with it. This worshipped skull. Careful not to prick my thumb. Remembering everything I ever loved. The dust gathering like echoing voices. Voices I know well like I know you well. Your delicate touch and your manly smell. A pearl in an ocean. A kiss by the lake.