I want my stone
It's in
It's a pocket
A cave 
I'd never like to find myself there
But for my hand
I want my stone
Where's my stone
To go into my stone

Tear scent denim on the bedroom floor,
cradle for a cheekbone.
A portable reading light
A book bent backwards
A coiled ribbon
There 
They are me
On this bedroom floor
Under one table
where someone was once beautiful
and then still also after

If the world would touch me softly please
I might pretend that i am barely there
And the world might pretend it too

Is it possible to focus a moment more into one sense?
Maybe could i live one moment as more a sound

Tree branches almost seem
Like they move slower
Than the wind and air
Sometimes
And now
Thats me
Sometimes

But i can't stay
You were hurting me with the bin
And the unwanted
It was not needed 
Maybe i understand
But no
Nothing nothing
No 

A piece of thread floating
But moving past the leaf canopy
And the town
Village landscape
But glimpsing glimpsing the pale blue
Across those few changing colours

Old place 
Where i left my thoughts
I can see you now
But i never quite left it all

One day 
The light won't
Touch your naked skin anymore
When houses are the haunting
And my ghosts were your life

Possibly the **** of the first time i tried
Who else burried a heartbeat maybe
Under stone or nettle
Or in your earth and life?

Still you take me to you
Not even a stony galaxy 
Though that word seems not-right
Thank you thank you
A place that won't leave dents in my knees

Like a polished statue head
Not beauty
In fact
I almost melt
But there's a person of 
A passing person
A barely there and rarely remembered person about it
Them

vision then
vision then
but i must be breathing or
something close like an echo
coz my hands are speaking,
like these words
and changing screens
they came from this very day

my body has used this now place
here
like a human
and.

I'd just like to be just a figure in their bed now
gentle and blending
in softness and calm
stillness
like to inhale

A face weighs down shoulders
Don't make me a person

but please
though.

i never liked an uninvited light
when it sliced through my night-space

But a whisper
I don't know
But i know sometimes there's this imprint on the pillow beside me
just then i picture the walking man i spoke of once before
but no
but absolutely not like it at all
coz this whisper
is like the space of a something.
The world knows

Thank you