January 24, 2010 at 12:24am



Maybe I will come back in May 

Hopefully I will know where to stay... 

scratch on with your instruments 

play with your hand held high 

I will kick the dust into the sky... 

light boxes turn to orbs in which I chase 

walking home, I do not haste... 

Embers burning walking far from, abnormality.. 

Looking back, who was that face? 

A slow look over the shoulder 

the smoke, it blew clear away from the chase...