The sun is squeezed from the sky
And I watch the sky pour...

The warmth of an orange
soaks into my skin...

A surge of emotion
And I am gone...

Nereus, man of the sea
count the crystals on my breath...

I think I'd rather be liked than known
And I know myself so much less than I should...

The wail of man-breathed wind floats here
And bodies lay that felt no fear...

World's clear and bright with distance
But living makes it dull...

And maybe there is magic
In the little things...

Let water, trickling from rooftops
Stoop to cup your cheeks...

What is love if not pain?
The stars taste just like knives...

Spinning years consume the air
And age comes creeping to my bed...

Can everything return to what it was
And freeze in place until I catch my breath...