298 Before this beginning, I never had a single longing. Now I don’t want to let go I live in a sulphur compound, In these citrus fields, I don’t know the time of day, My tongue drags out of a riff vent, Going to the dark river, At a thousand miles an hour, In early sun light, I don’t need a place to go, Razors edge, The edge bleeds, A rebirth in capacity, Another break down, In the weight of my tongue, Racing the same questions, Putting some distance, No more force, Make use of the chaos, Spring is just another empty field, Pale worry, Fantasy for extemporaneous conclusions, In a wish catch truth and trust, Blessings for the birds in the treetops, Mis-fed apples for Indonesia, I wanted their heritage, Refocus reform refrain for a faster friend, Making sense of the chaos, With jealous pants, Just ask painted don’t look at me, Portable and milestones of passerbys, A bride somewhere is bleeding to death, little sips of death to trail her, a sleep in a cocoon somewhere, blood turning her to time, the background blonde, a sufur vent in my head, a deep bleeding, bled back to the beginning, or the end, the woven structure alive itself, softening,