Spun out and liaising with The Smiths,
slow death of living, a decay into night-
this incomplete ****** tend to album sleeves,
wearing the dismal heart
as a tablet for communion.
A choreography of chords and isolation,
a steadied high, sleepless eyes of longing
scratch faces in the ceiling print.
Anxious plots of escape,
the paralysis of a song lyric.
Bludgeon of chemicals, the sunglass confidence
of a new summer, a winter spent inside.
There is calm in desperation, missed chords;
imbalance amongst the infrastructure.
We wait for it all to come down.
Reduced to word,
reduced to sound.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
Spun out and liaising with The Smiths,
slow death of living, a decay into night-
this incomplete ****** tend to album sleeves,
wearing the dismal heart
as a tablet for communion.
A choreography of chords and isolation,
a steadied high, sleepless eyes of longing
scratch faces in the ceiling print.
Anxious plots of escape,
the paralysis of a song lyric.
Bludgeon of chemicals, the sunglass confidence
of a new summer, a winter spent inside.
There is calm in desperation, missed chords;
imbalance amongst the infrastructure.
We wait for it all to come down.
Reduced to word,
reduced to sound.
C
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