Floating eyes down the drain, my heart needs me. Terrorizing your neighborhood we weep, tantalizing. Birdsong cracks the head.
A smile is what she brings to my face, the thorns of a thousand roses imprinted in my back. The black light is coming from the shadows, never mind the mind. Unlock the space within and float around.
Gold turning into strawberries is not an everyday occurrence, the fruits of the day are often perceived to be bad. The emphasis must be placed on perception, in everything “bad” there is something good to learn. The hard bit is to realize it.
I speak from the center of things, one must not forget what pain is hidden inside oneself. Through great peril we have climbed in a rush to see things in an unclouded vision. Slowly the veil is falling off, it’s imaginary but it’s there.
The text of these lines is something less critical than what you’re used to. Blow up all bridges and write a poem, what is lost is lost, what comes comes. Control the body, your space vessel. Keep up the good work, nobody is judging you. Reminders of time are obsolete.