Longing for the ether
The gentle birdsong tears into my lapsing pose
Plagued by what I could have been
And the gentle birdsong tears into my slowly lapsing pose
I am slave to your comfort
I am dirt to your dogma
Forever
Ingratiating myself
Howling after lost compassion
In this stillnes I have stirred
Unkempt nails wounding the leather
Eyes - marbles in glass
Smothered by concrete towers, drenched in sweat
A cold needle's point is felt
Somewhere