The knife is swift, the cut is deep, the
blood flows red in memories,
red from the heart so small, so…

I am home, cold in the evening.
Guitar guttural streaming
Thinking and not thinking.

I want, I desire
Something real
Something becoming
yet I reside in the white
space forming slow and sweet.
In conscious effort
and mayhap deep at heart
singularity wants another
singularity
of the same to want to the lead
when no other has before.

I am home, cold in the evening
Differentiating the nature
of frailty and trust.