When stars fall like rain
like liquid drops of fluorescent moisture...

She said,
Darling, I'm not fields of grass...

In this 32 degree fahrenheit
alley of life...

Oh well, ni modo.
Gather your tears and boil them with your anger...

Night
you are dark...

Fears are vultures in the nights
soaring thirstily, and hungrily...

tears tore me
dripping dropping...

Do not throw more wood to that fire,..
Shhh...

...

In the kitchen-
Fingertips trace ashes splattered over counters...

He thinks he thinks the way I think:
in that... one must be open minded...

If it were for me,
I'd search between pages and pages...