Taking the train the wrong direction
Looking for light, or some affection
You got some nerve calling me now
Don’t bring it up, I’m underground
There is a place covered in vines
Floral in scent, feral with signs
Clutching crucifix, wielding a bat
Keeping head down, walking with rats
When I arrive I’m going to sing
For the lightness of everything
Fire and fog, sparkling stars
Slow heavy sex, fast moving cars
Nothing to say, no urgency
Perfectly calm, terribly free