Changed rooms

Raw sounds of your pathetic voice in sex
You are screaming for my wounded mind
Ritual self reflective victimization of death
On white bed sheets dark blood and hair


In motion of weather cycles of isolation
Under weeping clouds and bursting stars
We are in one nature of personal sensation
Castrated dreams are prepare to strike




I levitate in horrible landscape of nudity
Spinning vertigo and greasy hands
Around my naked flesh -torture of god
Late afternoon of dying faun with pan




You are left me in my own meditation
I can still smell your shoes at my mouth
Memories of expanding deconstructions
You are naked at hotel room with dog