Words from my restless youth seems dated. Into the flood again. Same old trip I made back then. I see it wash again.

All five horizons revolved around her soul, as the earth to the sun. Now the air I tasted and breathed has taken a turn and all I taught her was everything. I know she gave me all that she wore.

My bitter hands shade beneath the clouds of what was everything. All the pictures have all been washed in black. Tattooed, everyday.

Don't you die. I'm justified.