Woorden: William Ryan Fritch. Bodies Of Elbows.

Men fall hard who walk on stilts and stand on soapboxes, may gravity forgive me my long legs. for those who trumpet blazenly are made to teeth aluminum and forfeit parted lips. The same breath blows hot and cold but our hides of dead skin can't distinquish. peel back peel back, with our fingers pointing and counting. peel back peel back our husks all ivy drained, of our verdure and virile our sore chafed hearts sing different timbres but our hollow bellies drum the same, all hollow beliies drum the same. We are bodies of elbows that in envious ulcers dream of wings. May all our inconsequential parts be dressed in labial skin and revel in the oxygen of our new found sensitivities, and revel in our new found sensitivities. but such ennervating kisses of caramel will blister our temples with the constriction of burnt sugar. The ebb and flow of our infant senses will gnaw at us for a hundred distended years, leaving to die a confounded and caustic nascent knot of veins that not even our echoes will remember. Men fall hard who build houses with many windows and nearly no walls, and run on sand as if stone. So f we were all made to fall, may we at least learn to dance. Every tendon twixt your bones be made to move, and each bound chapter of your spine resounds fraternal notes, I revel in the suspense of such human discord. hear that, Hear that, with our brain's spun silk, hear that, all is electric we cull from skin and sea, hunger pangs of an azure bell

(Thanks to zach for these lyrics)