there were trails leading up to the incandescent islands floating through the sky like a parachute in my hands we sought salvation with the stares of broken eyelids saving up our reputation as a storm of fragile lightning these streetlights shine with blinding auras oh like forklift smiles and folded meaning keeping issues hidden plastic tissue wraps around me keeps my warmth inside my body like an inkjet dream of sorts / on painted fingertips and lashes batting from within / leaving open questions open hearts and surgeries translate my addiction speak these words but not too strong / lack of stronger signal and connection of the fall / break my walls within with strong reactions to your craft / leaving stones unturned for convenience of it all
passion fills our breath with fonts of lacquer stains worn out misconceptions intoxicating questions
[oh these rockets form our strengths this country comforts me]
and take this in your palm and show it off as you fear the water in your blood carry memories your neck with god trust in gold, forget my attempt through the glass as a symbol in a desperate phrase spraying words on walls with equal pressure that we face tearing down our walls with dynamite and wooden swords causing ruptures to our only form of language