I want to roll
in mud and smell...

In funerals,
I’m used to wearing...

Your number navigates
amidst my eyes, too familiar, too missed...

Who needs
street lamps anyway...

Drawing his nails
along the cell ground, striving...

We're lying down,
two naked, shameless bodies...

This is my first attempt at writing Deutsch...
There it is...

The more I want you to forsake
this paper...

I’ve been told many myths
about death...

I reach back.
My hair stuck...

Tonight I'll put you in
the eyes of an Eastern child and close...

We're in a life where clammy walls ate half of our
dreams, where the scent of lead corroded the rest...