quench bespeckled Grasping for nothing in particular and reaching it, grabbing the first thing that bursts into your heart and keeping it, biting into it like a ripe apple, letting it fulfill you like no pure water ever could. Like no spring water could ever purge your soul. 030113 ... Soma We dreamed of matrimony White picket fences, white dresses, black gowns Contrasting late nights walking home from 7-eleven Drunk High And stoned On our love We raised our Slurpee’s Like chalices of ale and mead That once were used to praise ancient gods Just as we used to praise our love Our temple went into ruin As the statues of Thor, and Odin Those that were dyed with Azurite Now are painted with fluffy moss What was built in years unraveled in months Oh I dream of those nights and I dream of those dreams of dreaming of a future That now only exists in fragments that scream Echoing howls of what was then and what never had could of been You are my messiah, my wide hipped Aphrodite I will call your name Into every abyss, every crease, and every terrible feeling I ever had 230916 what's it to you? who go blather from