To Dream Of Autumn

My Geodesic And the Humming That Persists

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My Geodesic And the Humming That Persists Lyrics

I am the exhalation of an end, of the baroque and the barren, of a speeding train. the road as womb; Compass as timekeeper. A gird entangled, suspended from branches breaking under winter ice. If I could see the color of air breathed, changing with the movement across tectonic plates. 150 pounds displaces. 150 pounds so easily displaced. I pass faster than the minutes, quivering alongside the motor-driven everything. Proximity fluctuates and landscapes imitates. At home with the inbetween and the continuity of inconsistency.

Submitted by

darkershadeofwinter On Jul 20, 2005

Perhaps We Are Going Away

What Birds Plunge Through is not Intimate Space

The Rapture Of The Deep

Stuff is hard

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DarkerShadeofWinter

Submitter

2005-07-20 10:28:33

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