a showroom filled with fabulous prizes.
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Swimming out further beyond the white birds of our longing. Wrestling the animal of necessity down. Adored on the face of the ocean, light filling every orifice at once. Black mirror; ocean of noise. A wild dimension filled only with blue light. Fire on the shoreline, something catching in the centre of something else. Hair thick with salt & woodsmoke. The slower days here: the dizzy stumble ashore. Hatching one fear instead of another, bobbing irradiated on the silicone sea. We're immersed here, a shapeless vaccination: the pointless sweetness, the liminal fatigue. What's the point of it all, our literal disjuncture. The champagne & fat strawberries of our imminent passing. Here's the dark wave of our bodies together. The warning, then the dawn. The way I break myself to be with you in this vacuous weather, running empty down the viaduct over which you called my name.
Here's how we'd truncate each other, bloodletting in that loft down in St-Henri. I don't take risk now, just sempahores, just inky snaps of distant shores. Will we ever see each other again, moody dream boy, harpy ambulance perambulating across the foreverness of this place. Baby, darling, my bonecrunching dark child. My peripheral worry. My eternal thuggishness just an overture to the sorry girl you let me be. Afterlife, here, every ocean a prismatic slick. Every forest a once-over. Every skyline just a composite of chemical trails. I'm here with you, baby, phasing the lyrics out. Moving 'til we sweat it out. Holding my face above yours 'til you open your eyes like a prayer: say my name, say my name.
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Baby we are on a plane where many things happen at once. What began as a small stone in your brain now a strangeness, a zone of bliss constantly interrupted by the sky, the road. Isn't it strange to fathom your whole throat just a document filled with my name. You always drawing from collective experience. You suddenly, fearfully scrambling up the deeper slope. The red circle, the splatter, the accumulated papers - the look on your face, you charmer, when you know you've done something you shouldn't have done. Risk. Humiliation. The swamp of our affections.You're fond of me, aren't you, lit up like a siren on the corner of Main & Hastings. You'd like to be alone with me, drinking the horrible drinks we'd always make each other. You rode your bike into some kind of eastside disaster with the sky flying black above you. Catching yourself from falling, then stumbling all over again. You fell asleep in your clothes at home again. "Wouldn't go alone into America," nor would I further into our striking subsistence, our narrowest longing left with the front door hanging open. Wouldn't you wait for me, wouldn't you grow cold & then warm again in the white atrium of the gallery. It's our lexicon that's similar, our emotional touchstones, our ability to leave & leave all over again. After this, we'll never see each other. After this, baby, we'll be fine.
Swimming out further beyond the white birds of our longing. Wrestling the animal of necessity down. Adored on the face of the ocean, light filling every orifice at once. Black mirror; ocean of noise. A wild dimension filled only with blue light. Fire on the shoreline, something catching in the centre of something else. Hair thick with salt & woodsmoke. The slower days here: the dizzy stumble ashore. Hatching one fear instead of another, bobbing irradiated on the silicone sea. We're immersed here, a shapeless vaccination: the pointless sweetness, the liminal fatigue. What's the point of it all, our literal disjuncture. The champagne & fat strawberries of our imminent passing. Here's the dark wave of our bodies together. The warning, then the dawn. The way I break myself to be with you in this vacuous weather, running empty down the viaduct over which you called my name.
Here's how we'd truncate each other, bloodletting in that loft down in St-Henri. I don't take risk now, just sempahores, just inky snaps of distant shores. Will we ever see each other again, moody dream boy, harpy ambulance perambulating across the foreverness of this place. Baby, darling, my bonecrunching dark child. My peripheral worry. My eternal thuggishness just an overture to the sorry girl you let me be. Afterlife, here, every ocean a prismatic slick. Every forest a once-over. Every skyline just a composite of chemical trails. I'm here with you, baby, phasing the lyrics out. Moving 'til we sweat it out. Holding my face above yours 'til you open your eyes like a prayer: say my name, say my name.
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Baby we are on a plane where many things happen at once. What began as a small stone in your brain now a strangeness, a zone of bliss constantly interrupted by the sky, the road. Isn't it strange to fathom your whole throat just a document filled with my name. You always drawing from collective experience. You suddenly, fearfully scrambling up the deeper slope. The red circle, the splatter, the accumulated papers - the look on your face, you charmer, when you know you've done something you shouldn't have done. Risk. Humiliation. The swamp of our affections.You're fond of me, aren't you, lit up like a siren on the corner of Main & Hastings. You'd like to be alone with me, drinking the horrible drinks we'd always make each other. You rode your bike into some kind of eastside disaster with the sky flying black above you. Catching yourself from falling, then stumbling all over again. You fell asleep in your clothes at home again. "Wouldn't go alone into America," nor would I further into our striking subsistence, our narrowest longing left with the front door hanging open. Wouldn't you wait for me, wouldn't you grow cold & then warm again in the white atrium of the gallery. It's our lexicon that's similar, our emotional touchstones, our ability to leave & leave all over again. After this, we'll never see each other. After this, baby, we'll be fine.