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Songs (45)
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For His Skin Was Incapable
Of Recollecting the Past
As a Cloud Has No Real Surface
Or the Wind a Sense of Direction
It Carried No Inkling Of
How Painful Or How Beautiful
How Data Full Or Deficient
And Overall Disappointing Life Is
And He Became Statuesque
Even In His Thought
And Though He Was Not Dying
A Great Pity Or Shame
Attached Itself To Him
The Way Details of Torture
Stick Precisely
In Those Minds
Who Do Not Delight
In Remembering
Similarly the Memory
Of Whether Or Not He Had Been Loved
Came Out of Him Occasionally
As the Numb Glitter of Stars Does
And He Suffered Unclearly Because of This
As a Hiveless Bee
Might Daily Collect Nectar
From the Doom of Flowers
Not Knowing Such Sweetness
Is Artless Or Aimless
Or In Other Words a Burden
When the Honeycomb Is Done
When Its Suffocating Corridors
Are Emptied of Relatives
And Lined With Oozing Echoes
Left Only With Only His Existence To Hum
He Gathered Yellow Packages
From Daylight Lily Suns
And Attached Them To His Legs
Bright Sacs of Light Pollen
That Shed As He Walked
And Felt a Sense of Satisfaction
So Unwarranted As To Make Him
Blink Back Tears
Knowing Nothing Good As Gold
Was Written In the Cards For Him
No Matter How Warmly He Flew Around Or Buzzed
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Provided courtesy of Apple Music.