there were trails leading up to the incandescent islands
floating through the sky like a parachute in my hands
we sought salvation with the stares of broken eyelids
saving up our reputation as a storm of fragile lightning
these streetlights shine with blinding
auras
oh like forklift smiles and folded
meaning
keeping issues hidden plastic tissue wraps around me keeps my warmth inside my body like an inkjet dream of sorts / on painted fingertips and lashes batting from within / leaving open questions open hearts and surgeries
translate my addiction speak these words but not too strong / lack of stronger signal and connection of the fall / break my walls within with strong reactions to your craft / leaving stones unturned for convenience of it all
passion fills our breath with fonts of lacquer stains
worn out misconceptions
intoxicating questions
[oh these rockets form our strengths
this country comforts me]
and take this in your palm and show it off
as you fear the water in your blood
carry memories your neck with god
trust in gold, forget my attempt
through the glass as a symbol in a desperate phrase
spraying words on walls with equal pressure that we face
tearing down our walls with dynamite and wooden swords
causing ruptures to our only form of language
