just the thought of a risen
flood,
oh by the love of the impulse
that fabricated us,
is it right to descent into the
level of a soul?,...
write the remains of a sad
belonging,
if all this makes sense,
it is for the sake of a profound
fear of change,...
take my hand,
and call me old-fashioned murderer of
well being,
but please don't leave,
i need the need of your presence
