open sky
sea of green
sea of skin
you are waste to me

if I cannot fill you
if I cannot devour you
if I cannot ignore you

sacred flame
holy dove
holy cunt
do not be punishment

I got a cyclone of shit bouncing round my head,
whisky trickles from my pores,
my eyes and ears are bleeding.
Do not speak this.

In the morning, wood pigeons offer their idea of life
and the trees are stirred lovingly by garden whispers.
I have to stir myself, rub sleep from stinging eyes
and look out across a world that no longer delivers.
I have to look out across a world and be dissatisfied with summer,
with life.

parted lips
sea of eyes
sea of ships
you are such waste to me

if I cannot touch you
if I cannot sail you
if I cannot be your god

sacred cigarette
holy vessel
holy fuck
please do not be punishment