09.19

All that candle wax, poured out of me, the carnival lead covering me and we aren’t good with love alone.

We should know each other. ..

Carpet burn and hands folded under, I’ve got your number, guessing really …and the count is full again. I thought it was right but it ain’t never what we thought..needless…. Painless. … travelers, thought dead travelers

We can’t always but we still always. Intuitive and knowing. The assumption leading the raw bone on bone..and I want to rip your clothes wondering and I want to close the door, a solid for your liquid..close the door and squeeze closed the eyes

..

Are you alive young man..are you living old man.. Are you damned old dancer? Fat sprinter..rum drinker. …eight ball choker…shift shifting..

Are you living…

Art credit: photographed by Axel Hoedt.