i fumbled through my body
like a madman simply looking...

i was just some
fleeting exercise...

people only type
in contrasts...

the climb of heat
is but summer ploy...

i'm going
to be productive today...

when my hands lay
they lay, they hold on the gravel...

hey,
your a rock and im stable...

those constellations
in each darkened sky...

your eyes
were the last sunrise...

The lines of our love are crooked —
ever spiraling...

dirty streets
with simple hands...

if I were to be honest
honest with myself...