I want to write songs of you, the way Trent Reznor sings
Of his ephemeral Her, his God, every roar, every whisper, every husky syllable outlining
This hollow emptiness within our strangled darkly dreaming cardiac cages. I want to write songs for you, twisted and double-edged, a symphony within symphony, a malady of melodies shaping all my depthless, wordless need; a melody I would bury deep, let oceans crash over it so when it rained you could be soaked in this music & the rain shall whisper in your ear.
Let this rain always be for you, the symphonies reverberating on your skin like a pulse, still in search of something numinous. I want my words to resonate within you, the words to melt calmly in you. Breathe them out into the wind, circumnavigate the world, be suspended in the ether of midnight, fireflies caught aglow in amber; hold my amber-spun dreams in your hands, let the sun warm them, seep the sun-wine of their slow fire to resonate in your emptiness, the way piano keys echo within the hushed gloom of a thousand watching eyes, I wish you could be– eternal, eternal, eternal.