I want to ask
the kind of questions that probe...

I long for a typewriter world, where it's all
permanent. Take away the power to...

Another song...
One month and eight days have passed...

I wish every single word of my thoughts
was automatically transcribed to paper...

The quiet languor in his eyes...
the subtle strength visible in the slope...

When you speak, I listen.
I try to sort out...

We are thick and
calf-like, compared to the...

Mocking myself, hiding alone
no home for me, no shelter...

To be able to grasp
with such certainty...

Flick
the hair from your face, so I can...

His eyes are so
sincere...

Compare us to the sun,
I ask you. You say...