I liked the way my hand looked on your head in the presence of my knuckles but the beauty of this vision alone just like yesterday's sunset has been perverted by the sentimental and mistaken for love
the felix of your truth will always break it and the iris of your eye will always shake it and the armies, the armies I have created will always hate it will always bait you on
I liked the way my hand looked on your head in the presence of my struggle but the beauty of this vision alone I can't shake from my tree just yet it keeps invading all my private moments listen to me now