| If it’s a full rooms magic
|
| I know the box was there, magic
|
| I’d flee my body curio
|
| To settle in sky
|
| As the home of your eye sits still
|
| Knowing me
|
| Used to dwell in the gray of being
|
| The silent partner the heart of art
|
| Where delusion is your master
|
| And the dollar is the whip
|
| And your self-hatred be chains
|
| The uttering of clutter
|
| Rings like choirs attuned to disaster
|
| Or mothers who curse prayers
|
| And children who are fire
|
| The mirror of their father’s youth
|
| The pained awe a testament
|
| Of knowing you for a time
|
| For a time |