Rained on you plenty more times and his dark thicks of mind seduced my beating chest. We came to the opera together and left with watering apart faces in a song we sang and no one listened. But the echo soothes my skin and yours becomes see-through in the mute thunder that I fell from; in love to making love inside us. read my boats as they cross your white ocean smile and my scratching throats will finally swim homeless to your lipid shores. Famished clouds will gather their windless poems and I will read the world in your eyes. Let me live in your unknown script and die in your separated lashes. I’ve let go of your swallowed hand and reassured these strange fingertips that I no longer can hold your face against my me’s. Because you are mine not me but mine. One.
Radiohead makes sense of my impulsive velvet writing. in a consequence insomnia; I am rained on by the softs of your intuition.
