The sky is ashing now.

The fruit is faster than the wind.

The clowns

are wandering by.

The aerial dancers are drawing out the poison.

The Ivy stopped to grow.

The litany is scared.

I don't even know what a litany is.

The sacred word is fake.

The wonderer is mysterious.

I am grounding with a cape.

I am worshipping by the salty lake.

My people are badly injured.

I incure self inflicted dangers.

I sit instead of moving

I move to know how alive I can feel,

I am entranced, enthralled and heavy.

Like a rock scratched for thousands of years.

Words are like bites from broken butterflies.

Strings are sounding heavy and roars.

The beauty is flaming and due.

I want to love whether you dress in black or blue.

I want to love you

Your sinews holding in to rooting in to another mans hands.

Flesh in to the deep roots of another mans body.

I want to love you for being you.

Leave you be whether you changed sex overnight

I want to love you

I want to love you for your soul.

If you ever showed it to me

Because I've fallen and its like a haze I can't release from. Like a momentary cry of a she wolf delicately swimming in the sea.

I am person.

I am cave.

I am drunk.

Never by reality but the thrones of the gospel stones.

I am blissful and calm.

Centered and sinister.

Sold and blistered,

Bleary and wintery on a summers day.

Not appreciating what I got not

growing for this vacant lot.

Not a sinner but saint not a saint but sinner and sinful is a word

and sinful is a word

and so is saint.

And so is saint

words are like music faces like the marks of a brush.

All our experiences carried in a wash.... Our bodies streaming distance. Our naked shoulders bursting to the sun.

Our naked knees popping to the distance.

Our eyes able to reach the horizon. How soft and tender the horizon can be even with its sharp black colours

These words are helping me fuck it all

fuck it all for its not the end by any means.

Who knows what life is ain’t thats why is so great to be it.

To be it is to arrogant to say, What can I do but live if I entered this world with life..

I scrape words deep inside from my subconscious to lay them out to you like a ship

an organ

and a harmonica

brown and yellow colours.

The cool air is due.

The flavours are burnt.

I sing in lisps and goodbyes.

Whatever that means

Vauge skin

Vauge life rythmn.

broken sinews and salt..

asleep before it boils.

Why is this time forgotten, the time when

things sleep.

If I could be awake for every sleep

what would I see

If I could be alive for every moment I'm dead

would I be happy

If aspire to know nothing

what does that make me

if I aspire to learn what does that make me.

If belong to one country who am I

Do I belong to the world.

I didn't choose to create borders, I was told thats how the world works.

Why do we have borders and not for the sake of a difficult question.

Why do we?

Is it our way of categorising the world.

I ask myself

Especially when nature is chaotic.

How can we tame nature

I don't even understand a fragment of my own.

No matter how much I've tried

and given up.

And tired

and tried.

Who cares about what I say,

Who cares what it means

do I

what am I?

Why do I question myself.

What do I question

and how do I escape ?

What is it to face things?

Or to run far away?

Am I running running away ?

Or Am I stale and stern

staying

swaying......

or am I just a lick spit of sperm that decided I exist.

What is it?

Dressed in black

dressed in black

dressed in black

dressed in black

dressed in black

dressed in black

dressed in black....

and it shows.