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My left handed heart is still painting your face 
over the walls of my dim mind 
These contrary winds hiding under my eyelids 
I hope I can stomach the weight. 

But each bristling wave is an unfinished thought, 
swept out of view by the next one. 
I've tried and I'm trying to string them together, 
but oh what a waste of my rope. 

Like a disappearing act 

On a lofty brown bed, treading masses of blue 
I started coughing up questions. 
There's a giant asleep under all of this water, 
I'm searching in vain for his name. 

Written on my tongue, 
There is none merciful but God. 

Iron pinned you down 
You were coming unstitched 
You were flickering and you didn't have time to ask why 

Something was circling our heads 
Was it the patron saint of death? 
I heard you spoke from your new grave, 
"There is no truth that will not fade." 
Well I guess you'd know better than me. 


from Varuna, released November 30, 2010


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