Not your name
Not your nationality
Below all the fame
Below the unreality
Deep down
Who are you?

Forget your license
Forget your authorization
Forget your conveyance
Forget every legal documentation
Now tell me
Who are you?

Deep down in the dark room of your empty soul
Deep down below your average conscience
There are only the things you put there yourself  
All your unused options
And the unanswered questions
like 'Who are you?'


Deep down below
There are only feelings
All your feelings
That you chose to confine
But it really doesn't matter who you are deep down
Because nobody carries around a shovel all the time.

the mind is its own beautiful prisoner.
Mind looked long at the sticky moon
opening in dusk her new wings

then decently hanged himself,one afternoon.

The last thing he saw was you
naked amid unnaked things,

your flesh,a succinct wandlike animal,
a little strolling with the futile purr
of blood;your *** squeaked like a billiard-cue
chalking itself,as not to make an error,
with twists spontaneously methodical.
He suddenly tasted worms windows and roses

he laughed,and closed his eyes as a girl closes
her left hand upon a mirror.

Various disorders divide the dimensional drift that separates you, from me. The telling tale of loss, regret and the missing links still bury truths. Truth is told because I’ve lost my hope. Persons call my name and shout out what they think. They make insecurities look pretty **** secure. All the while, my sweet tooth is out of sync.  And my internal combustion radiator is radiating harmful soliloquies. “I still beg of thee, he who hears my prayers. It’s been bout half a century, and I have yet to pray but give me strength where it is not.”

See?!

Anyways, feelings of retribution will come a forward day. Tantric beginnings fold under pressure and again we find our futures. Oh and by the by, the only thing who saw the crime was about eight inches tall and blind. Punch drunk and sucker punched, what will us suckers find? A fetching question for the ultra pressure.


-Gus

I took your hand and led you into the dance floor,
(Both slightly intoxicated I'll admit)
Somebody had fallen,
I tripped on them.
Due to gravity,
With your hand in mine,
I fell,
Taking you with me.

Giddy, we laid there for a moment,
Watching clusters of bodies moving around us.
After the process of detangling and getting back up,
We began to dance.

There was a spark,
With each step we surprised each other.
Bodies moving in sync.
Never quite meeting.
Locked eyes,
Heavy breathing,
Suddenly,
I saw you in a different light.

The song ended like all good ones do,
And we stood there.
Unable to describe what had just happened.

"Usually I'm an awful dancer."
"Same here."
"But together we're great."

At least I wasn't the only one that fell that night.