Portraits hang in a melancholic manner.
Turn the frame into a disaster.
Arranging poignant symmetry.
And pattern is movement.
You say you’re moving all the time,
oh, your metered mind.
Surrealist time is drooping from your eyes.
Did you get much sleep, my love?
And focus on me, I’ll wait for my answer.
But you’re gonna brush it off.
And the sun hates you,
but you’ve never left your room.
Oh, you never leave your room.
released March 9, 2016
all rights reserved