Time is so exciting these days
Like a whole world under the blanket
Patches of some other reality shining through
Muffled sounds from everywhere and inside all at once
Vibrant echoes of old campsites
Simple beats of industry
Hammer the messages home
We are shifting
Sands of time
Now just sands and
Every grain the ocean.


Dancing yellow fields fly by like impossible summers
Some things in this world are stained with you, infused with you
The strangest things enter deeply into my heart
Piercing, leaking, flowing

Now it’s like a reflex
An echo around the corner in yesterday’s cave
Far off eyes wincing
In the middle of the mundane
In another life

I want to write and tell you I was there and never called
Knowing if it had been you
I would burn with rage
Knowing if I had called
I would have shrivelled inside

Like a martial artist
I’m using your resistance to move me forward
Conserving my energy deep in my core
Letting you push me further and further away
Like the shore pushes the tide
And it flows away
So that it can return
Some other way, day, time, life.

I don’t want a bungee rope
I don’t want a life line
Or a leash
For you to be mine

Just for you to be fine
And me to walk away
With grace
And fire.


Slimline silver bimmers, crisp white shirts and heavy watches
So many sailing by
Inside one of them
Is a heart of fire
In an iron chest
Choking smoke seeping out

Inside all of them is a ticking clock
A sleeping tiger
A trembling child
A heart of gold
A million stories untold.


Just let it keep on burning through me
Bubbling up in me
Hissing and darkly dancing like hot lava
Chucking rocks

Let it burn away all that cannot stand
All the lies they told us
All the fear
All the wanting
All the illusions

Let it burn through what I though love was
Let it burn through thought
Let it burn through who you think I am
What I think is wrong
What I think is missing
What I think

Let it course up from my belly salty and wet
Alive like the desert sea

This fire is not about you
It’s not about me
It’s not about anything

This fire is its own self
It is my self
I am it
What burns?
Not I.