Wildly these feelings
sleep upon this bank...

Clay-smelling objects,
mud plates and bowls...

You can keep trying on and on,
but your misery just won't help...

Thick air will be drifting off through
this foggy night...

I want some warm rays for the days of December
and as silence gets colder I'd need a coat to wrap...

I looked for it
behind the curtain...

Come again, be a sight I desire wrapped in
a further unforeseen summer...

I want to be a desert
open and wide, unbound by...

I took my steps back,
and ran out of your life...

I'm unequal in balance, unequal for logic,
such a modern cut of seasons...

I halt my fears on
the chalk cliffs of my life...

I am stripped from each
inch of sanity, tripping from...