An old smoke fills the air
Thick, heavy, low
Twilight black
The glisten of gypsy tongue
Lexicon of regulated perfection
Heaven on the tips of devil horns
Tarnished edges and streamlined headboards
Cultivate and harvest
Inhale
Swallow
Unleashed
I once forgot the misery of the mundane
When I bit into the flesh of ancient skin
It was a rush of tangled wasted moments and aching thoughts
Sometimes I think a car wreck sounds inspiring
This road stretches on for miles with nowhere to go
With faded yellow lines and broken aged black pavement
I reckon I’ll just keep driving