if i accept myself it won't be dangerous
for others to like me

within the realm of
trust and mistrust

placelesness
addiciton
rivers of dust
real storys
and fiction

don't get me wrong
i won't be talking long
it's just something else
this world of codes

weak words are spread
it's like butter on bread
it's like longing for fat

don't get me wrong
i won't be talking long
daddy told me: stay strong

but i'm trapped in the land of
placelessness  

get me some rest
get me some rest
get me get me get me
some rest

Little by little your tiny hands
And soft cheeks, you're so close to me
Unravel into each other

Remembering the every day magic
Ernest and shy.
Nervous and happy.

And.

Lovely alone time with you.
At last a moment together
You and a view, take me now.

Kisses so soft and gentle
Under the sun setting sky
Nearly sixty thousand people cheered for us

The farmhand burns the leaves, though the bodies of slaves
Lie at heaven’s impasse in the trees of dying looks, barring them
From peaceful death, the sad emulsified perch of love and heat,
Hung at noon like John Brown untended, bearded of sticky summer,
Heavy-headed swinging noon and the smell of honeysuckle blood,
Fetid day like the coming dirt of graves, the clinging air of disease,
Snake-winding down from the trees with no pleasure of the bitten apple.