Yes, I am a man
Hanging loose skin on a midnight stand
Give yourself anything, a dream
You'll find yourself in a room filled with steam
Thinking of thoughts
Standing inside with flowers out of their pots
Burning the letters of words
Running after sundrop birds
I feel the people
Read the sermons from towns steeple
High and low
Looking down into deaths pillow
Sorrow deep with keys of purple water
Lennards asleep on tea awake with our sister
I think you know when to stop to start
Then I turn around in bed with a broken heart
These words I write
To hold me naked and slippery tight
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