| when the owl breaks the light beam in | |
| a nights dream ride. am i seeing in slow, | |
| am i driving too fast for the sound to | |
| finally break past time spent following | |
| straight lines to death. | |
| behind my eyes in a parallel sky she | |
| belongs in the shapes in the clouds try | |
| to take me to the grounded ones | |
| skyward there's a fog that casts a | |
| planetary haze to hide the white lined | |
| aggression in our eyes. | |
| in a season of collapsed lungs, there's | |
| a dark holiday and we are following | |
| straight lines to death. |
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