I walked amongst the withered oaky clouds reaching to the earth in capillaries of lightning.
I made ****** on journeys in the night to the licquor store.
I could take refuse and morph it in my hands, because they were her hands.
She was the gravity of neutrinos, I spun and spun, and threw off layers, as her bra lay on the floor and the laces of her ****** lay whitely in the corner of the room.
I could've been anywhere in those final seconds, the club with it's thousand orbitals of dancing brilliance, the park with it's millionaires of hate, the senseless desert of my heart.
I was in the rainforest feeling the universe in droplets, and my pores screamed.
Destruction is something to reminisce over, and I moan like a cat in the night with it's broken leg.
I moan like a dwarf star, getting smaller and smaller.