home, as a reflection
That with which you identify
That in which you see yourself (or notice)
That effortless recognition within a fast myth
That blind shelter in the fountainine train falling from the skyline
skyline brought down with it to an earth she finds you, brooding
like a derelict horse in crashed lightening who found more purpose in jail, behind the gate of consequence
and after the escape felt impaired by freedom which we also intend to
redefine as a kind of danger, kingdom of forgetting, a bond too strong for some
(consult the oracle again to see if you can handle..) some
times I say, if I could just get away with my/
he'd go straight sure as fate for it never is too late for a man
But once we accept our new definition all this falling turned to dangling
down the hood of a cliff or from the good egypt to the gypsy greece we keep traveling as if that was the only way back
(home)
a narcissism to large to send in one place
But still, me, they never encountered
They never encountered me?
No. They never encountered me.
