In the throat of an hourglass,
all tilts, all turns...
I dream of you
in the moan of violins...
Lately, I have been remembering
so much of my younger years...
Grief does not knock.
It shoulders the door...
Josh your smile's a crooked line
A masterpiece no need to refine...
There -
amidst a pile of leaves and...
Electric magma rises as the phoenix-
Longingly recalls the sweet words of agony...
The pain upon my heart was carved
A wound I never sought or starved...
Yes, I still hear your voice
echoing in those former alleyways...
Is it a crime to love so deep,
That even angels wake and weep...
I am changing into something new.
I’m growing beyond what I was...
The urge to tell stories,
to tell the story...