silence in fabric
no swish in direction of the stealth
that was felt
from the tongue to the lips
blah blah
tuning forks
strings and guitar chords
picnics impose
winter was close
I said, "what you know about moving the dead?"
you said, " ma'am not much"
-man I am sleeping
oil in beards
only witnessing life as my shadow appears
falls down the stairs
cascades
that's right
i'm me
for life
swim through
good grief
skin used
as sheets
some nights
-old men are lights in the cave
a poet dreams of Virgil the same
franzia blush
in the moments I trust
racing to pace
in the traffic i'm placed
strange in some ways
like a hook to a worm
learning to live in presence of harm
the moon and it's charms
My new hair
it starts to bloom
it starts to grow back
- I am lost in it
and no dreams but the walls are now scented
arresting an interest placed in a plucked out
hollow of a socket
that I trusted and I struck down
-mellow is the cream of the centerpiece
all hopscotch but the butter aint tinted
like the lines on the pavement
grape kool-aid from the basement
lot vacant
crepe savory
aint paying me
hands cut from identity to cuff
now my fists stay balled in the dust
like a portrait of scorpions
painted in palette knife
in alien red like a lobster at sacrifice
-eyes draw heavy in the distance
to a melding of heat and a vaporous vision
I've stuffed in my shirt all my tools for existence
This album is an impressive feet of writing and sound design. Kill sets such an incredible mood throughout the record, and the writing is consuming, reflective, full of dark humor, and the weight of life. Easily one of favorite albums to drop this year. Bloodmon$y Perez