we could get some red, we could talk a peek inside your head, just a thought the beach at night time, where’s the sea? the last of the wine, and you and me and if no-ones looking, can we get some skin contact? pins and needles and body heat a soft focus secret televisions’ good tonight screen light spots my butterflies apparently this attitude is tired and on repeat so im hoping that it’s mutual so that i can get some sleep. caterpillar confidence has tiptoed far enough please don’t take this opportunity to point and laugh and if no-ones looking can we get some skin contact?
Who Are you Who is born In the next room So loud to my own That I can hear the womb Opening and the dark run Over the ghost and the dropped son Behind the wall thin as a wren’s bone? In the birth bloody room unknown To the burn and turn of time And the heart print of man Bows no baptism But dark alone Blessing on The wild Child.
