My Mouth Blooms Like A Cut.

And The Aura Of You Remains, Remains, Remains...

Somebody Who Should Have Been Born Is Gone.

I Brush My Hair, Waiting In The Pain Machine For My Bones To Get Hard, For The Soft, Soft Bones That Were Laid Apart And Were Screwed Together. They Will Knit. And The Other Corpse, The Fractured Heart, I Feed It Piecemeal, Little Chalice. I'm Good To It.

Put Your Ear Down Close To Your Soul And Listen Hard.

Once I Was A Couple. I Was My Own King And Queen With Cheese And Bread And Rosé On The Rocks Of Rockport.