The rain's not falling anymore,
we're too damn close the July's end...

Tears spatter against window panes
as the clouds cry out against injustice...

Superstition and reality,
they force me to write these words...

Ashes flutter upon the walls of hell;
snowy white and harvest orange...

Little flies buzz against the window,
burning in this summer heat...

Lights flicker on a highway drag,
luminescent white strips flashing by...

Clouds hang heavy above dew drop trees,
hovering with a prayer for better days...

I'm staring at the blank screen,
it's got white and peach; it's pale...

Tonight I'm gonna lay this pen down
and sleep under the star...

These razorblade perceptions
cut sharply across my eyes...

These pieces of July
are falling fragrantly around...

Strong arms wrapped around a slender waist,
living like we always said we would...