I'ma Killa, Yo a Killa...

The symbol of an old friend came to me in a dream last night, He showed up with death but not a fight, He danced interpretively with death, In my room they twirled as the toys wept, In stop motion with the familiar beep they continued, Death then shredded his dark form and payed his dues, I then felt my old friend lay his hand on my naked scalp, I looked up and saw me dancing in a mirror, I then held hands with death lacking terror, A boy was all he was when he floated over my bed and me, He then locked eyes with mine and said “What an adventure this would be”

I’ve been across the sea, just enough to get burned. These images move too fast for me, they blur and shoot sparks in my head. I’ve loved a woman or two and I think that’s enough for me. I can barely remember the world, “I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from”                                                                                             "Yeah Its not dark yet, but its getting there“ 

I’m not sure if I’m even alive enough to hear her heart beat through her breast. I’m scared to death to open back up the coffin because I’m afraid it would be vacant, and that's enough for me.  

I’ve chased a couple rats. I’ve chased a couple fantasies,                             I’ve danced underneath the trees, I’ve ran on the edge of night, And that’s enough for me. 

I can barely remember the words, I sang when I was young and happy. 

I can’t even remember the world, but I can see it fade.                                                                        

Ombromanie, Première Série. Lévrier, Porc, Ours, Ane, Hargneux, Effroi, Tortue, Tom, Dromadaire. 1860.