The floor you walk on is smooth. There is no ground there
Magic begins with blood. Outside, there are trees
With concrete under their roots. But I have pa**ed the tombs of kings
Regaled them with pacing, checked bins for food and wrappings
I have scoured the seas for miles, cloaked my face with ash
My fingertips opening, accepting my time
The dark cylinders of half-smoked cigarettes
For me, I'm your sorrow
Calling in your dreams
For me, I'm your shadow
Howling in the streets
Water chimes in the space between rocks
Speakers discharge and laughter is in the air
Gla** divides us
Empty bottles
Mark the steady sweep of day
Tomorrow, I will walk the streets
And steel myself for the familiar. Your eyes
Will not settle, a hunger. You'd be happier in your grave
When we meet, share stories, you stretch me. I see
I see a semi-circle of teeth
The dark cylinders of half-smoked cigarettes
For me, I'm your sorrow
Calling in your dreams
For me, I'm your shadow
Howling in the streets