walking home

in the cold

pondering wasted beauty

silk skin raising towards your hands

years spent to get here

not a sincere soul to deeply soak it in

pointless beauty

pointless beauty

inside, outside

thrown away

body walks as if crossing your doorway

as if laying on top of you

one light open

gentle, open, to the sound of your waterfall

to the sound of you’re beautiful

your slaughtered teardrop

my open heart

lain in your arms

and your heart spread out against my chest

saying things



thrown away

coming home to lay in the quiet darkness


wasted waterfalls

nothing but illusions

yours and mine

skin, skin, silk skin

skin raises

awaiting your pressing touch

in the quiet darkness

the only truth is the truth of loving who you are

in the presence of another

therein lies at the only answer you’ll ever need