cus today I'm craving again
a piece of the androgin's tongue let her be female
when coming across my tooth hanging in the yellow fields
of sorrow beeing still here not even the white grass
could make me resume a flower to it's motionless smile
dance again in the collar bone of the ghost I'll be
nowhere I'll be the pale pink in your marble carnival of dreams

feeling the point like you could ever be to be inside
twisting some shadows on your body's disappearence
another eyelid holds the bunch of crystal tears
one for every dying season even if you still taste raw
as a crushed lamb runing on a cold brain

or maybe just a cold way
rainy and british
of leaving you
alone on the sofa
with all my flesh poems